


Eternity Lasts Forever

by summerfolk



Series: Eternity [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cemetery, F/M, Genderswap, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Reincarnation, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerfolk/pseuds/summerfolk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“...May you be my love for eternity, may different lives flash in front of our eyes, and may we stay true to each other through the end of the world.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to all BBB mods, authors, artist, mixers, betas, and cheerleaders for everything that you do. So many amazing works I'm looking forward to read. This is fantastic!
> 
> Dear **Onthehill** , none of my fics would see the light of day without you. I thank you with all my heart.
> 
> If you haven't seen the artwork **awildpercychase** created for this story, please [have a look](http://rannyfighter.dreamwidth.org/6131.html) now.  
>  I wish I could see it for real. It's beyond any words. Thank you, dear!

**Disclaimer** : I made everything up. If something looks familiar, it’s just a coincidence. There are things that I mention about war and real places – it wasn't my intention to make them correct, so it’s all a lie.

**Additional Notes** :

In spite of the warnings and the additional tags, this is not a dark fic, and the characters are alive in the end.

The story happens in three different periods of time. The only pairing in this work is Frank/Gerard. But they are different people in each period (and one of them is a woman in two out of three periods). I hope you'll find out who is who.

I used a few words and phrases in French. They are very simple and can be deduced from the context or looked up on the internet. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find. Enough words now...

 

**Faith**

_2014_

“The Black Parade...is dead!” Gerard screams into the microphone, and he feels it. It’s over.

The crowd roars madly, but he can’t hear anything. His view is blurred by the flashing lights and the sweat stinging his eyes.

Somebody takes him backstage and right to the green room. Mikey, Ray, Jared, and Bob are already there.

Gerard flops down on a couch and closes his eyes. He can still hear the audience singing back at them their own songs. It doesn’t get less amazing with time. But they're going to have to write new songs. Because the era of the Black Parade is over. Done.

Somebody throws a towel on his face, and he wipes half-heartedly at the particularly stinging spots. No towel is capable of soaking up that much grime and sweat. He needs a shower.

Bob clears his throat and stands up. “All right. That’s it. I quit.”

Gerard opens his eyes and blinks repeatedly, adjusting his vision to the dim light. Then he sees Mikey rolling his eyes.

Ray stands up too. “Come on, Bob, not again. It’s supposed to be a happy ending.”

Bob huffs. “That’s right. Ending. We did it. I need a break.”

Mikey sighs. “Then take it, Bob. Who told you we’re going straight to the recording studio?”

“He did!” Bob points at Gerard. Gerard doesn’t even flinch. His body barely remembers to breathe. “He tells everyone that we’re working on a new album and he’s very excited about it, blah blah blah… That’s enough!”

Mikey looks at Gerard. “You did mention something at the interview.”

Gerard groans. “So what? It doesn’t mean we still have to do it.” He's too lazy to argue. But he can't help himself; his brain is always working, like it's a survival instinct or something.

Mikey rubs his temples. “Let’s just not talk about it right now.”

And like a Fairy Godmother, Brian dances into the green room with cold beers and water and rescues them from the pointless conversation.

On their way to the airport, Mikey takes Gerard by the hand. “You need a break too, Gee. We all need it.”

Gerard nods. “I know. I was thinking about going to Europe. Do you wanna come along?”

Mikey smiles. “Sure.”

 *****

_1707_

Anton is standing on a terrace and watching the night sky. The rest of the world is sleeping and seeing wondrous dreams. A gentle murmur of leaves in the alley reminds him that soon he’ll meet her.

They meet every night in the wonderful garden, and time ceases to exist for the two of them; but he can’t enjoy the bloom of the flowers or feel his heart rush in his chest at the sight of his lover, because his heart was taken from him the day that evil woman decided his fate. But she couldn’t take away his soul, and with it he will fight.

He is ready to die, but he can’t. He can’t leave Helena. He loves her too much. He loves her more than he hates himself, so he is waiting. Until life leaves his body and he will be free again.

But not yet.

He’s meeting her tonight, and nothing else matters.

 *****

_2014_

Gerard wakes up shaking off the remains of the dream, and there is a girl on his bed.

“Were you dreaming about me, honey?” She asks mockingly.

Gerard takes a deep breath. “Jesus, Lindsey! Don’t scare me like that! Ever!”

Lindsey giggles. “Come on, you’re so cute in your sleep.”

Gerard gets up from the bed and shuffles to the window. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“I totally heard this line before.” She wags her finger at him.

Gerard turns around and nods at the real estate magazine sitting on the bedside table. “Found anything yet?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that your delicate way of telling me I’ve been exploiting your hospitality for too long?”

Gerard waves his hand. “Bullshit. You can stay here as long as you want. Besides, I need a house sitter for a few weeks.”

“You’re actually doing this, aren’t you?”

Gerard shrugs. “The Black Parade is over, and I need a distraction.”

“Where are you going?” Lindsey asks, drawing her legs close to her chest.

“To Paris, I think. I always wanted to go there on my own. You know, without the sound checks, venues, interviews.”

Lindsey scrunches up her face. “You do know it’s not like it used to be right?”

Gerard nods. “Yeah, I've seen it enough times to feel its modern style. I’m not under the impression it’s still the Paris of the thirties. Although, I’d like to visit that, so if you happen to have a time machine…”

Lindsey lets out a squeaky laugh. “You would be the first to know!”

Gerard sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Do you think it’s because I’m getting older? Maybe I need a family?”

She purses her lips. “More like you need an adventure. Why would you look for a family abroad?”

Gerard runs his hand back through his tangled hair. “There was one time, when I was left behind the rest of the band and I had to take a flight to our next city alone. I was sitting in the airport and dreaming about someone out there, waiting for me, not to make money out of my fame or teach me how to live, but just be, you know. Just live and be happy.”

Lindsey purrs. "Oh, baby. Sometimes it scares me how lonely you are. Even Mikey can't fill this void you have in your soul."

*****

_1707_

He’s slowly walking down the ghostly streets. It’s quiet everywhere, and even the crickets are silent. The only sound he can hear is the echo of his steps resonating against the pavement. He can already see the iron fence, the gates to the garden, their only shelter. This is their moment of peace; their souls can rest now even if it’s just for a few hours.

There’s a delicate silhouette standing at the pond. He sees the shadow of beloved features and a sad look on the familiar face. There she is. A forgotten flower slips from her hand, and her lips move apart when she knows he’s here. She feels him, but stays still until he’s right behind her, and when he opens his arms to hold her, she turns around and clings to him.

Their kisses are longing and desperate. She tries to get as close as possible to him, but he has to push her away.

She knows her warmth and scent torture him, especially when he hasn’t fed for so long, but she doesn’t care. She already told him she wanted to stay with him forever. But he can’t stand the thought of being a creature that takes other people’s lives to support his own.

And he’s surely not taking her along this path.

It’s probably too late anyway. He’s dying, and there’s no turning back.

_One who loves must share the fate of the one he loves._ Helena’s grandmother wrote in her farewell letter to her children. She followed her husband to Vienna, when the Black Death caught him there, and died with him far away from home.

They look at each other in silence, their fingers intertwined. They are going to stay like that until the night is over, and then they will go their separate ways.

*****

_2014_

Gerard walks in the living room and finds Lindsey watching a documentary about the Père Lachaise Cemetery.

The narrator is telling a story about a street musician who was very loved by people because he always cheered them up and had a very kind heart. But he met a girl, fell in love with her and they decided to run away together. Somehow, her father found out and killed him right on the street. He was poor, and the city authorities buried him at Pere Lachaise. It happened long time before the cemetery became famous. Later, people who kept his memory alive made a monument for this musician.

Gerard stares at the screen dumbly. "I've never been to Père Lachaise."

Lindsey turns the TV off and taps her fingers against the armrest of the couch. "Why would you go to a cemetery?"

Gerard rubs his nose. "Right. But either the movie is very impressive or I am a freak who likes everything that's connected to death one way or another."

She looks at him suspiciously. "It's really hard to decide."

"Yeah, I know I'm a freak," Gerard chuckles, “but aren't you impressed by the story? He just wanted to make everyone happy and then, bam, his life was taken away from him just when he'd found his true love."

"They didn't tell us anything about the girl," Lindsey shrugs. "If she loved him, she wouldn't have let her father kill her boyfriend." She puts her hand on her chest. "I wouldn't."

"Maybe she wasn’t the right girl to die for, but we can never know.” Gerard sighs sadly.

"I'm sure he loved her though. I hope he did, otherwise his death doesn't make sense to me at all." Lindsey turns to Gerard and pokes him in the side. "Have you ever met someone who you'd die for?"

Gerard considers the question for a moment. "I would definitely die for my family. But apart from them..." He shakes his head. "I don't think I have it in me, you know. I'm not that dramatic. I love life too much, and just the mere thought that it can end suddenly drives me insane. I mean, I know I'll die one day, but...I'd still want it to continue. It's stronger than sacrifice."

She tilts her head aside. "Even stronger than freedom?"

Gerard opens his mouth to answer, but his phone rings suddenly, and he winces. "Hold onto that thought, okay?"

Lindsey laughs and shakes her head. "Of course, because I don't know about your long-term relationship with your freedom." She gets up and leaves Gerard alone to answer the call.

He connects it and sticks his tongue out at her back grumpily.

"What's up, Mikes?"

" _I kind of wanted to ask you the same question_ ," Mikey mutters. " _We're supposed to buy tickets today_."

"Oh, yeah!" Gerard jumps from the couch and grabs his laptop from the coffee table. "I almost forgot!"

" _I thought so,_ " Mikey says sternly.

"Are you sure we shouldn't call my agent? She always finds me the best flights." Gerard is excited because he loves traveling, but usually he trusts his agent to arrange the most convenient transatlantic trips for him.

" _Gee, I wanted to ask you something_ ," Mikey starts hesitantly.

"You've changed your mind?"

" _No, at least not about Europe_."

"But I wanted to see Pere Lachaise!" Gerard whines.

" _I'm not asking you to cancel the Paris trip, just come with me to Belgium first_."

Gerard raises an eyebrow. "Have you been flirting online with that girl from Brussels again?"

Mikey snorts. " _No?_ "

"Then why Belgium?"

Mikey sighs. " _I honestly don't know. I stumbled upon a blog where the authors, a married couple so you know, travel across the world, and write about everything they see and it kind of made me jealous._ "

"It still doesn't answer the question why Belgium."

There's another sigh on the other end of the line. " _I may have read one of their posts about Bruges, and it got me_."

Gerard scratches his neck. "Okay?"

" _Really?_ "

"I don't know, but Bruges sounds like fun."

" _It's not Vegas, Gee_."

"Hey! Do I strike you as a Vegas-kind-of-fun guy?" Gerard asks irritated.

" _No. Only zombies, blood-drinking creatures, cemeteries, abandoned mansions and mystery ghosts._ " Mikey answers after a while.

"And don't forget cats, please."

" _Sure. There always must be the cat_."

 *****

_1707_

_He’s sleeping, and he knows he’s in a dream. His comrades stayed in the camp while he was chosen to learn the enemy's whereabouts. He’d never been in Spain but he has a map and his dagger. He’d had so much worse assignments, and he always came out alive._

_He closes his eyes, and he’s in a labyrinth. He knows where to go though. The only rule is to turn one way all the time. He takes right. A soft breeze is ruffling his hair as he approaches the end of the maze. Here it is, the last turn to the right and…there’s a woman waiting for him at the end. Her face is beautiful but pale and lifeless. Her eyes turn from yellow to black and she smiles at him._

_“_ _Hello, my dear. I’ve been waiting for you. Come.” She reaches her hands to him and suddenly he can’t move. His throat is dry and his hands are cold. He steps closer to her against his will and tries to snatch his dagger. She keeps smiling and bends her head. “Don’t be afraid,” she coos. “I would never hurt such a beautiful boy. Come closer.” He stands right in front of her and feels the breeze on his skin. For a moment, he’s free. His hands belong to him again, and he grabs the dagger and thrusts it into the woman’s chest, but she doesn’t even flinch. “Yes,” she says, withdrawing the blade with one hand and sliding the other around the back of his head, pulling him closer to the wound. He can’t resist her and stays silent as the cold, viscous liquid fills his mouth._

"Anton! Wake up!" Rafael is shaking him awake. "Wake up, my friend. It was just a dream."

He shifts on his bed and touches his lips. They're cold but dry. It was just a dream. "What time is it?" He asks, panting.

"It's almost ten o'clock. Helena was here." Rafael hands him the envelope. "She left this."

Anton takes the letter and frowns at it for a few seconds. Rafael doesn't leave and looks at him expectantly. Anton raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's inside." Rafael points at the envelope.

Anton shrugs and unseals the stamp. He reads a few sentences written by hand, the scent of which still lingers on the paper. "She says she can't meet me tonight."

Rafael lets out a sigh of relief. "I thought she would ask you to do something awful. Maybe go through some kind of a ritual."

Anton smiles and shakes his head. "You don't like her very much."

Rafael purses his lips. "She is astounding. But crazy. I want to crawl out of my skin when I see her." He looks at Anton with a serious expression. "I think she's a witch."

That makes Anton laugh.

"Says a friend of a vampire," he notices light-heartedly.

Rafael rubs his head and shrugs with one shoulder. It is a habit he acquired after his injury in the war. "That's true. But you didn't choose to be a vampire. She, on the other hand, likes it. I think she's after you because of who you are."

Anton looks away. "Do you really think so?"

Rafael sighs and shakes his head. "Of course not, my friend. Look at you. You're the worst vampire in the universe." He sits on the bed next to Anton and puts a hand on his back. "And I can see it in her eyes, she's crazy about you. The real you."

Anton nods. "My life was meaningless before I met her."

"What does she say about your…" he gestures with his other hand at Anton.

"She wants me to turn her," Anton whispers.

Rafael lifts his eyebrows. "Why not? Eternity forever is a bright future, the way I see it."

Anton shakes his head eagerly. "Because if we do this, I let the monster who turned me win. What if she decides to take what she thinks is hers? She left me only because I said I didn't want to be a vampire and refused to hunt beside her."

Rafael bites on his lower lip and nods. "How much time do you have?"

Anton glances at his trembling hands. "I don’t know. Maybe a few days. I fell really weak."

*****

_two days later..._

Helena leans away from the kiss and hides her blushing face in the crook of Anton's neck. "You're very passionate today." She takes a step back and studies him curiously.

Anton strokes her cheek and kisses her nose. “I’m not hungry anymore. I think we can stay together without me wanting to drink all your blood.”

Helena looks down on her feet. “Well, too bad, because I wouldn’t mind.” Anton opens his mouth to say something but she puts her finger on his lips. “It doesn’t matter. I think I’ve found the solution.”

Anton leans away, his eyes wide. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing we can do. I am cursed. My life doesn't belong to me anymore.”

Helena nods. “I know that. But I still have my life. And I’m willing to give it away, but I know my life is worth something. I’ll make the best of it.”

Anton shakes his head. “You’re out of your mind.”

Helena gives him a wicked smile. “When I want something, I go to any end to get it.”

*****

_2014_

_I'm gonna fight 'em off_

_A seven nation army couldn't hold me back_

_They're gonna rip it off_

_Taking their time right behind my back_

_And I'm talkin' to myself at night_

_Because I can't forget_

_Back and forth through my mind_

_Behind a cigarette_

They’re wandering around the Bruges Central Train Station square, Mikey’s on the phone with the B&B owner, and Gerard is studying the ‘beware of pickpockets’ sign just above the ticket booth.

It’s early in May; the weather is nice and the wind is refreshing, and Gerard feels like he’s floating.

“Okay,” Mikey says, “we need to find a place called Minewater.”

“It’s Minnewater,” Gerard corrects. Mikey arches an eyebrow. “What? I saw a sign. And you should have looked this place up before we got here.” Gerard points at Mikey’s phone.

Mikey shrugs. “I bookmarked all the places we need.”

“Oh, really?” Gerard grins. “I guess the B&B isn’t one of these places.”

Mikey shakes his head. “Nope, but I have a list of pubs we need to visit.”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Let’s go this way,” he nods at the crosswalk.

“Wait a minute,” Mikey looks at the station building. “I saw a Starbucks inside.”

Gerard winces. “Seriously? I thought you wanted a beer.”

Mikey wrinkles his nose. “Nah, we’ve just got here. I need coffee to fight the jet leg. You didn’t give me a chance to find one in Brussels.”

Gerard shrugs. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll have mine black.”

When Mikey leaves, Gerard takes another look around. The place seems familiar somehow. The sky above him is blue and clear, almost welcoming.

Here I am, Gerard thinks. The wind brings a paper poppy flower to his feet. He studies it for a while, trying to understand why his heart flutters in his chest. But soon Mikey comes back with coffees and Gerard pushes his worries away. At least for a while.

*****

_1939_

Camila steps down to the train platform and looks around. There are wide fields stretching to the left and a sleepy-looking town to the right. Jeremy is holding her hand and smiling widely and happily.

"I don't understand," Camila fixes her hat, her nose wrinkling. "Why are you so excited to be here? As far as I know, we're in the middle of nowhere."

Jeremy's smile becomes even wider. "I always loved this town. My father used to have business partners here before the war began, and I even remember him taking me along with him for a few months. That's the time when I met Peter. We would play all day long while our fathers were busy in meetings." He sighs and shakes his head. "I don't know. Maybe because I was a kid and every impression I got was magnified by my imagination. But Peter is still my best friend even though he lives here and I live in Alberta."

"What about me?" Camila teases him with a smirk.

Jeremy gently nudges her towards the station square. "You're my fiancée."

Camila frowns. "But we've been friends since we were born."

Jeremy doesn't look at her, just at the road in front of his feet. "Yeah, sometimes when I introduce you to new people, I want to call you my sister," he laughs awkwardly.

Camila twists the corner of her mouth. This whole wedding thing is so stupid. They've always been as close as a brother and a sister can get, but nothing more. Too bad their parents couldn't see it by themselves. Too bad Camila didn't have enough courage or motivation to explain it to them.

Peter is waiting for them at the square, leaning on the side of an old clunker. Camila would never have thought a car that old could move but then, who was she to judge? She was only four when the Great War began, and her father who volunteered to go to the Western front with his brother told her he had to drive anything that had an engine.

"Oh my god, Jeremy, look at you!" Peter squeals when he sees them walking toward him and lunges ahead to hug Jeremy. Peter is a very fierce hugger considering his relatively small stature.

"I missed you too, Peter," Jeremy croaks, hugging him back, and Camila thinks she sees him brushing a tear from the corner of his eye. "Please, meet my fiancée Camila."

Peter pushes back and looks at Camila with excitement pouring off his whole being. " It’s so nice to finally meet you, madam." He grasps her hand and shakes vigorously. "Jeremy's been writing me a lot about you." He chuckles. "I even started thinking of you as my own friend."

Camila bats her eyelashes. "Well, it is nice to finally meet you too, Peter." She throws a quick glance at Jeremy.

"But let's not waste any time here. Come on," Peter opens the back door of the car and gestures for them to squeeze inside. "My front seat has been ripped apart by my dog Fred, so you just sit in the back, if you don't mind."

Jeremy snorts and scrambles into the car after Camila. "Always a dog lover," he mutters before Peter closes the door and sticks his tongue at him. When Peter runs to the other side of the car, Jeremy turns to Camila and raises his eyebrows questioningly. "What do you think?"

Camila huffs, shaking her head. "I still can't believe you've never told me about any of this."

*****

_2014_

When they finally find their B&B, Gerard is too tired to do anything but a short walk along the canal. They have dinner in the restaurant across the street and fall asleep in their rooms until the morning of the next day.

"So what's on the menu today?” Gerard asks during their breakfast. He slept like a baby, which is nice. His biological clock is too confused by the sudden change of the location of its master to find the appropriate time to torture him with insomnia.

Mikey winks at him. "First, we go to a museum, then we drink."

Gerard smirks. "Let's change the order of events. I'm sure it’ll be more fun like that."

"Nah," Mikey shakes his head. "Their beer is too strong to combine with other mind-involving activities."

"Fine," Gerard wipes his lips with a napkin and throws in on the table, pouting.

*****

_1939_

"I haven't given you a wedding present yet," Jeremy answers Camila when she asks where he's taking her.

"What about that beautiful camera you bought me for my birthday?" Camila tries to keep up with Jeremy's long paces. She should have chosen another pair of shoes to wear this morning. Who knew that all the roads in Bruges would be made of cobblestone?

"We agreed to consider it a wedding gift only because all this marriage arrangement was dumped on us by our parents at your birthday party. But I never got a chance to tell you how happy it makes me feel to know that I'll have you by my side for the rest of my life." By the determined look on Jeremy's face Camila can tell he's planned this part of their visit beforehand.

"Okay," she sighs, "but I don't need anything."

Jeremy smirks roguishly. "But you never turn down beautiful things."

They stop at a small shop with a diamond painted on the sign board.

Camila rubs her ring finger subconsciously. "Oh, no."

Jeremy pushes her up the steps and opens the front door, a tiny bell rings merrily, announcing their presence.

A man in a suit greets them at the counter and takes a note Jeremy hands to him. He quickly skims through it and gives them a warm smile. "Oh, please accept my best wishes with your upcoming wedding," he disappears in the adjoined room and returns with a relatively large box in his hands. "I believe this is for you, sir."

He passes the box to Jeremy and takes a mirror from the counter holding it in front of his chest, waiting.

Jeremy nods and turns to Camila. "I eh," he clears his throat and swallows. "I know you don't like rings, so I'll leave it to you if you want to wear it after the wedding or not, but this," he opens the box, and Camila has to squint at the light reflecting off the diamond in front of her, " I want you to have it as a symbol of my deep love and appreciation." He picks up the thin silver chain and shows Camila the diamond pendent hanging on it.

Camila can't close her mouth for a few moments, looking at the necklace bug-eyed. Finally, she exclaims "Jeremy, it's so beautiful, thank you so much!" Jeremy definitely knows her very well.

He lets out a laugh of relief and stands behind her to fix the chain on her neck. The shop manager holds the mirror in front of her while she tries to find her breath again. There's a tiny flaw on a straight line of the facet that makes the light bend a little, and Camila loves it beyond words for this imperfection.

*****

_2014_

"A diamond museum?" Gerard asks, looking at the poster in Mikey's hands.

"They promise to give you a real one after the demonstration." Mikey is already walking up the stairs.

While the owner of the workshop is telling his listeners about the technology of diamond making, Gerard can't tear his eyes off one example sitting on a shelf behind the owner's back.

When the demonstration is over, and the crowd around the owner thins out, he catches Gerard's eyes and waves at him.

"Sir, I noticed you took interest in one of the items from my collection," he turns to the shelf and takes the diamond Gerard's been looking at in his hands. "This diamond has a very interesting history."

Mikey squints at it, humming. "It has a flaw," he declares, and the owner nods.

"Where?" Gerard asks, tilting his head to look at the diamond from another angle.

"Here," the owner traces the facet with his finger. "The line bends a little, and the light doesn't disperse properly."

Gerard scratches his cheek. “I’d never have noticed if you hadn't told me."

Mikey snorts. "Always a catch for swindlers."

"I’m not buying it,” Gerard grunts. “Besides," he looks at the owner, "I don't think it's for sale."

The owner nods with a smile. "I'm still waiting for the rightful owner to come and claim it." He sighs. "I bought a house which belonged to a man who died in a train wreck in nineteen thirty nine. The city management tried to look for his relatives, but they all were vanished by the First World War, and no one claimed the house as their own, so they put it up for auction, and I bought it with all the things that belonged to the man."

"But this diamond looks like it was set in jewelry," Mikey notices.

"It was," the owner nods enthusiastically. "I found it hidden in the garden under a heap of junk. The cradle and the silver chain were too damaged, so I removed the diamond and polished it."

Gerard clucks his tongue. "So you're probably keeping the love story in your workshop."

“I found a few old letters the postman must have thrown in the mail slot but it appears they hadn’t been opened. The letters were sent from the UK between nineteen thirty nine and nineteen forty but then they stopped abruptly.”

“Which coincides with the beginning of the Blitz,” Mikey whispers.

The owner points his finger at Mikey. “That’s what I thought. That the guy who lived in that house had a lover in the UK and he was keeping the necklace for her. But he died, and there was no one here to send a message to that girl and tell her about the crash. And then she died too during the bombings. But there is one problem. All the letters were sent by a man Jeremy Holmes and the name of the addressee is Camila Green, so…” He makes a helpless gesture. "Only this diamond knows the truth now."

“So you’re saying that you haven’t opened the letters?” Mikey asks in disbelief.

“And do what?” The owner frowns. “I respect the lives of ones who died. I keep the letters, but it’s not my right to open them.”

Gerard looks at the diamond and sees the silver chain and the cradle that's holding it. He even can feel the weight of the pendant on his chest.

"Gee?" Mikey pokes him in the side. "Are you all right?"

"Sure," Gerard nods. "It's just...so...I don't even know...it is a very sad story. I mean the train wreck and the guy with no one to look for him…"

“The lost generation,” the owner says in a serious tone.

****

_1939_

"Peter arranged a couple of business meetings for us today. Do you want to come along?" Jeremy asks Camila when she comes down from her room for breakfast.

She flops on the chair and snorts, pouring coffee in the cup. "You seriously consider me interested in your business meetings? Or you are asking out of politeness?"

Jeremy shrugs. "Sometimes it's fun. And we're going to try Bruges beer after it."

Camila puts the coffee pot on the table, raises an eyebrow, then rubs her chin and scrunches up her nose. "No. I think I'll pass. I'm going to walk around and just take photographs."

"So you're warming up to Bruges, aren't you?" Peter asks brightly.

She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't know. Maybe it has its own way to charm people."

Jeremy looks at the silver chain peeking above the cut of her blazer. The pendant is hidden underneath but he knows it's there. Camila didn't take it off before going to bed. "I think I might know one of those ways."

Camila glares at him, biting her toast, but Jeremy is already looking at Peter with concern written all over his face. "Is it safe for a young woman lurking around taking photographs?"

Peter chews on his own toast for a moment, contemplating. Then he swallows the food and shrugs. "I don't know why it shouldn’t be.”

Jeremy winces and gives Camila a paternal look. "Just be careful, okay?"

Camila nods. "Like you didn't see me biting the heads off those ignorant pricks back home."

Jeremy nods, looking away. "It's different here. But I trust you."

*****

_2014_

After the museum, they go to a nice place with an overwhelming amount of different beers, eat sandwiches, and go to a next place Mikey wants to see.

By the end of the day, Gerard is absolutely drunk and he doesn’t remember their walk to the B&B.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water and tries to calm down his nerves. There’s something wrong, something is scratching inside his head, trying to jog his memories.

He stands on a terrace and watches the water in the canal. It’s quiet and peaceful, but his heart is aching. He takes a deep breath and goes to bed. It’s just jet leg, he thinks. He will be fine in the morning.

***** 

_1707_

Helena sneaks inside her father’s workshop and stumbles around in the dark. All the things are at the wrong places, and the bottles keep clinking against each other when she rummages around the cupboards.

“Damn it!” She curses when one of the bottles falls down on the floor and breaks, releasing the fumes of the tincture. Helena sneezes and coughs, feeling her throat tighten. She runs to the window and tugs the heavy frame open but her legs are suddenly too weak to hold her, and she slides down on the floor and loses consciousness.

_A shadow flies behind her, but it’s too fast to recognize. There’s a quiet hiss, and then an animal-like creature is standing in front of her, its head is bent to the side and it’s looking at Helena with narrowed eyes._

_“Look who’s here,” the creature croaks. “It’s been a while.” It leaps around Helena and sticks its head right in her face. “What do you want?”_

_Helena tries not to cough from the stench coming from its mouth and concentrates on the creature’s snake-like skin. “I…” she tries, “I don’t recall meeting you before now.”_

_The creature laughs and leans away. It somersaults in the air and turns into a more familiar creature. At least this one Helena saw in the books. “Do you recognize me now?”_

_“Chimera,” Helena whispers. Now she remembers the nightmares chasing her for a few months after she read that encyclopedia about mythical creatures of the past. She had thought those dreams were just the figments of her vivid imagination, but even then the creature felt very real._

_The creature turns back to its previous form with only one head. It looks like a dragon with claws and wings, hissing and breathing out fire. “Now,” chimera says, “what deal will you make?”_

_Helena shakes her head. “I don’t want any deals. I came to my father’s laboratory for another thing.”_

_Chimera laughs, flames coming out of its nostrils. “I remember that. You wanted to change your state of mind. You’re lucky your father is a healer. How would you get those amazing substances if he wasn’t?”_

_Helena shrugs. “I don’t care. I think I would have found something. I don’t need those things as much as I used to anyway.”_

_Chimera laughs again. “Liar.”_

_Helena huffs. “I don’t care what you think. Can you get me out of here, wherever I am?”_

_“You’re in my realm, and I decide if you get out of here or not.”_

_Helena touches her head. “I can’t believe my father would keep something that mind-bending in the house.”_

_Chimera starts pacing back and forth. “Your mind is restless. You want to change the way things are supposed to be.”_

_Helena jerks her head to look at the chimera. “Yes. Can I do that?”_

_Chimera stops pacing and sits on its hinges. “No man can change the order.”_

_Helena squints at the creature. “But you can.”_

_Chimera looks away. “My services are very high-priced.”_

_Helena grins, baring her small teeth. “How about my life?”_

_Chimera stares back at Helena and jumps to its feet. “How about all of them?”_

_“What do you mean?” Helena frowns._

_“It’s easy. You give me all your lives you will have in the future until you remember about our deal and end it. I grant your soul a tiny chance to remember itself and end the circle of reincarnations. The only thing you will have to do is remember.”_

_Helena shakes her head. “I don’t need this. Not without my lover.”_

_Chimera snorts and nearly chokes on the flames. “You stupid woman. I know why you’re doing this. I know everything about your unfortunate lover and his misadventures in Spain. I am giving the two of you a chance to find each other again in the future.”_

_“What’s your interest here?” Helena asks._

_“I get all your experience, every minute of your lives until you both remember.”_

“Helena, wake up!” Christian is shaking her awake. “Please, wake up girl.”

She groans. “What happened?”

“I’ve found you lying on the floor. You spilled a poisonous liquid. I should call for your father.” He stands up and heads to the door.

“No, Christian, please don’t tell him anything,” Helena calls after him.

He stops at the door and turns to glance at her with disappointment. “You’ve been looking for those mushrooms again, haven’t you?”

Helena gives him a one-sided smile. “I haven’t found anything, right?”

Christian shakes his head. “Those substances are meant for insane people, Helena. Why can’t you understand they’re dangerous for a healthy person?”

Helena nods looking at him earnestly. “I know! I know, Christian.” She takes his hand and tugs him down to sit on the floor next to her. “I can’t lie to you, Christian. I’ve known you for all my life. And you, you’ve been working as my father’s assistant for all these years, and you know what he’s like.”

Christian furrows his brows. “What are you talking about?”

Helena sighs. “I’ve met a man. A poor man. And I want to be his wife.”

Christian nods slowly, a look of resignation in his eyes. “Are you going to run away with him?”

“I want to. And I will, but there’s one thing I need you to do for us.”

“What is it?”

Helena tries to steady her voice and takes a deep breath. “I don’t care where it’s going to happen, and I’m not sure if father forgives me, but I need you to bury us together. Promise me this Christian.”

 

* * *

 

Song mentioned in this chapter

The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army


	2. Love

**Love**

_2014_

Gerard doesn’t drink anything stronger than coke until the evening of the next day. They visited all important sights in town, and Mikey tells him there’s one pub they haven’t been to yet.

"Why are we going there?" Gerard asks. He's tired, and his legs hurt, but the bright look on Mikey's face keeps him from falling to the sidewalk and maybe taking a nap.

"Because this is a place where young folks hang around. No tourists, mostly locals."

"And to which category do we belong?"

Mikey laughs. "Come on, Gee, relax. Feel the atmosphere."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

Bruges is definitely a town that makes an impression on someone like Gerard. But it's not like any other city he had been before as a tourist. It's so much more. It's like the town soaks through his skin and makes him feel something he'd never experienced before, like it got inside Gerard's head and tells its story from the inside.

The place Mikey is so eager to see is located in the basement of an abandoned-looking building. It’s noisy and crowded, but they’re playing the Cure, and Gerard immediately warms to it. Smoking is not allowed indoors but he can smell the smoke lingering from the secluded corners of the room.

By the time Mikey buys them the second round of beers, he’s ready to call the place authentic.

There’s a girl flirting with Mikey at the bar each time he walks by the counter, and she finally convinces him to join her and her friends at their table. Gerard is pretty drunk by this point, so he whispers in Mikey’s ear that he wants to walk a little and then he will go to their B&B.

Mikey nods and asks him to be careful. Gerard rolls his eyes and looks pointedly at the young folks at the table. “Make sure they’re over eighteen, okay?” he murmurs and walks away.

At the end of the street, he meets the canal again, and follows it until he’s in a park. It’s dark but welcoming, so Gerard decides to rest there. He finds a bench to sit on and closes his eyes, waiting for his head to stop spinning.

***** 

_1939_

Camila's been wandering around town for a few hours by the time her feet start aching, but she can't stop taking turn after turn, getting lost in the maze of narrow streets and doll-like houses.

She can see the traces of recent renovation; some of the bricks on the walls are brighter than the others, and the grey sky still holds the scent of explosives. The war is still here somehow. Its sounds are engraved in the stones and can be heard if you listen to the quietness long enough.

Camila likes being here, lingers on each bridge, and takes pictures until she's out of film.

It's getting dark and she knows she has to go back, but an unknown force is holding her on one particular bridge, making her watch the calm waters in the canal and think about something she can't remember but is definitely there, on the tips of her fingers.

Finally, she gives up and turns around angrily. The heel of her right shoe slips on the flat surface of the stone and she falls down on her ass, grasping for leverage with her hand and taking down a man who is crossing the bridge.

After a moment, she shakes her head and wonders why the man hasn’t gotten up yet and helped her to stand up. Then she sees him reaching for his cane and clumsily trying to move without bending his right knee.

“Oh, my lord,” she mutters and jumps to her feet. “Please, let me help you.” She tugs the man by his arm but he bats her hands away.

“Don’t touch me, please. I can do it myself.” He doesn’t sound angry, maybe a little annoyed. Camila silently waits until he gets up and brushes his jacket. Then she sees his face.

His every feature tells a story of his life. The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, a scar on his temple, the lonely but serene look, like everything he sees is perfect in its own unique way. She sees her own reflection in his sparkling eyes and the only thing she wants is for this man to be happy. She wants to make him happy.

“Everything all right, madam?” the man asks.

Camila gapes at him for a second. “No. Yes. What is your name?”

The man chuckles. “Are you going to invite me somewhere?”

Camila frowns. “Do you want to? I can take you to my fiancé Jeremy and his friend Peter.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Unless you think I insulted you in any way and you want your fiancé to beat me up, no. Thank you. Good bye, madam.” And he turns to leave.

“Wait!” Camila runs after him. “I didn’t mean anything like that. I’m not even going to marry Jeremy. We’re not lovers, like, you know.”

The man stops and chews on his lips. “Madam, you’re confusing me here. What do you want from me?”

Camila shrugs. “I don’t know.” She really doesn’t. “I just want to be with you. I want to know your name. Can you tell me your name?”

The man sighs heavily. “It’s Luke. My name is Luke.”

Camila grins. “What a beautiful name. Nice to meet you, Luke. My name is Camila. I’m from Canada.”

Luke watches her for a long moment and nods. “Nice to meet you too.” He starts walking down the road.

Camila puts her hand on his arm. “Please, don’t go. Talk to me a little.”

Luke shakes his head. “Madam, there’s nothing we can talk about.”

Camila can’t agree with him. “There are plenty of things. Like, tell me about your work, what you do, what you like. I want to know it all.”

Luke frowns. “But why?”

Camila watches at him like he is a child and she’s about to tell him one of the simplest things in the world. “Because I want to spent the rest of my life with you.”

Luke barks out a nervous laugh and resumes walking. "Yeah, and you decided it in a span of a couple of minutes."

"No," Camila tiptoes around him and walks on his left side. "Actually, it was only a couple of seconds, but if minutes work for you, I won't insist."

Luke throws his head back and closes his eyes. "I am too old for you."

"Does that mean you're not married?" Camila asks hopefully.

Luke frowns. "I'm not married, and I'm not planning to. You should go back to your fiancé, Camila."

"I like the way my name sounds on your lips. Can you whisper it?"

Luke clucks his tongue. He looks tired, and Camila sees circles under his eyes. "It's late."

Camila pouts. "It's never late, unless, you're dead, I suppose."

"I mean, it's getting dark, you shouldn't be walking around town alone." He sighs. "There's something strange in the air."

Camila sniffs. "I think it's fine. I mean, I don't know how it smells usually, but it's breathable."

Luke shakes his head. "No. It's different. Maybe it's not the smell...maybe it's nothing." He stumbles on a rock but Camila catches him and holds tight. "Thank you." Luke nods at her.

"What's wrong with your leg? Why are you limping?"

He shrugs. "It's a leg. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it," he chuckles "I was shot in the war and the joint was too damaged, so now I can't bend my knee. I am lucky they didn’t cut it off."

Camila narrows her eyes. "The Great War?" Luke hums in agreement. "You must have been very young when it happened."

Luke laughs. "I was young, you're right."

"Did they send you home?" Camila asks.

"I caught the bullet a couple of weeks before the war was officially over. But I got a studying tuition, a pension. After I graduated, I could help rebuild Bruges." He looks at Camila with a smile. "It turned out good."

Camila sees it in his eyes. Acceptance, gratefulness, but there's something else, barely recognizable, but there. The pain.

"Do you have a family?" She tries.

Luke hides his eyes. "No. I am alone."

Camila doesn't try again. She knows when it's the wrong time to pry. "So, you build houses?"

Luke tilts his head to one side. "I am a construction engineer. I do the planning, the others build." He points at his leg and makes a helpless gesture. They stop at a small house that faces the canal and Luke takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid I have to say good bye."

Camila's eyes brighten. "You don't have to say good bye. I can stay."

That makes Luke laugh very loudly, but Camila knows he's nervous. She almost got him. If only she'd had a few more minutes with him. But Luke is already behind the gates and closing the door, casting an apologetic look at her.

*****

_2014_

Gerard comes back to their place in the morning. He fumbles at Mikey’s door contemplating his options. He is worried about his little brother and wants to be sure he got back without misadventures last night, but knocking on his door at this early hour seems too much, so he takes his phone and texts Mikey to call him when he wakes up.

But he doesn’t send the message because he hears rummaging and different voices that don’t belong to Mikey at the other side of the door.

Suddenly, the door opens and there is a boy in what looks like his early twenties walking out of Mikey’s room. Soon, a girl of the same age and Mikey follow him. They all say good morning to flabbergasted looking Gerard and Mikey sees them off at the front door.

When he returns to his room, Gerard is already inside, looking at the crumpled sheets and sniffing the air suspiciously.

There is a dorky smile on Mikey’s face when he comes closer to Gerard and hugs him from behind. “I love Belgians,” he says against Gerard’s shoulder.

“So I’ve noticed,” Gerard agrees. He puts his hands above Mikey’s and rocks them from side to side, relieved and a little freaked out at the same time. “I need to go to Paris, Mikey. I don’t know why but I’ve got to go there.”

Mikey nods. “Do you mind if I stay here for a few days more?”

“Of course not,” Gerard grins. “Just be safe, okay?” Mikey groans but doesn’t comment. “Where are you going next?”

“To London. Jared and Ray will be waiting for me there, and then we’ll take off for a road trip.”

Gerard turns to look at Mikey. “Sounds like a plan, huh?”

Mikey shrugs. “I wish you’d go with us.”

“Maybe I will. You’ll just have to pick me up somewhere. Stay in touch anyway, okay?”

“Sure. Be careful too.” Mikey pulls Gerard closer in his arms.

***** 

_1939_

"Hey!" Jeremy protests when Camila snatches him from his way to the kitchen and leads him outside to the front porch. "Why are you dressed up? Are you going somewhere?"

Camila fixes her hat and clutches her purse. It's a little puffy with all the extra clothes she tucked inside. "Yes. I am."

Jeremy frowns, rubbing the back of his head. "Want to tell me where to?"

Camila scrunches up her nose. "I kind of met someone."

"What?" Jeremy snaps. Usually he's very restrained with emotions.

Camila hands him the box with the necklace. "We both knew it was a bad idea to let our parents decide our fate for us. One of us has to put an end to it."

Jeremy takes the box. He turns it in his hands avoiding Camila's eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Then he looks at her angrily. "How long have you known this guy anyway?"

Camila chews her lips and blows at a strand of hair in her eyes. "Look, I'm not leaving forever or anything like that. I just want to find my own way in this life. And being here, away from our families and parents’ expectations, makes it clearer for me. I have money; I can go to a guest house and rent a room for a few days."

Jeremy groans in frustration. "You know they're never going to forgive me for letting you go."

Camila waves her hand in the air. "I'll write them something. They should have expected I was going to run away from their good intentions one day. Don't worry, I'll see you before you go back." She drops her eyes and traces the crack between two wooden planks on the floor. "If you're going back."

Jeremy snorts. "You think I'm that resolute?"

"You can be if you want. We've always fought on one side for our freedom. Now, it's time for us to fight for our own happiness. Separately."

He nods. "Just be careful, okay? And come back if you're not comfortable wherever you will be."

She pecks his nose and whispers "I will. See you soon."

***** 

_2014_

_Spatial awareness. So much confusion._

_And it's so difficult to harness,_

_but then I look at you, nimble and righteous_

_and then I look at the floor: we made a fine mess._

_My kiss, can you feel it yet? In the back of your legs?_

_And on the nape of your neck?_

_Are you a temple? Are you a temptress?_

_There's too much choice, the possibilities are endless._

_So wash away my sins, give me catharsis!_

_We magnetize my moral compass._

_My kiss, can you feel it yet? In the back of your legs?_

_And on the nape of your neck?_

_Your touch, I cannot regret!_

_I love the shape of your mouth and the back of your head._

Gerard got his first impression of Paris right in the train from Charles de Gaulle airport when two police officers escorted a harmless looking guy out of the cart in one of the stations. From that moment, Gerard looked around carefully and tried to keep his luggage close to his legs. He almost wished he had taken a cab. It’s rainy and cloudy in Paris, but Gerard is glad there is no sun because he forgot his favorite sunglasses in Mikey’s backpack.

He intended to get used to the local transport system as soon as possible but it took him three and a half hours total and a couple of useless transitions from one line to another to get to his hotel. The advertisement banner claimed this hotel as one of the closest to the Pere Lachaise cemetery, but when Gerard looked at the map, it appeared he had to walk at least a mile to get there, but the surroundings looked welcoming and sort of casual, so he decided to stay.

The first thing he does when he gets the key card to his room is take a long shower in a tiny bathroom. The room is tiny as well, but it has a bed and a small dresser, and Gerard doesn’t need anything more. When his hair is mostly dry, he pulls on some random clothes he fishes from the suitcase and a leather jacket and goes outside looking for something to eat. The receptionist tells him that there’s a small café in the corner of the Avenue that serves burgers at any time of the day. It’s right on the way to the cemetery, so he goes there first.

When he gets to the cemetery an hour later, he feels tired and sleepy after a day of traveling and with his stomach finally full, but somehow being around this place gives him strength and soothes the soreness in his muscles.

Without any particular place to find, he visits Jim Morrison’s and Oscar Wilde’s graves, walks down the narrow paths and reads the epitaphs on occasional tombstones.

In spite of his prior expectations, he feels nothing but peace and serenity.

***** 

_1939_

Camila is waiting for Luke at the gates of his house and wondering if he’s already gone off to work when he quietly hobbles outside.

"Good morning!" She greets him merrily and jogs closer. "What a lovely day, isn't it?"

Luke turns to look at her in disbelief. "What are...what are you doing here? Have you been following me?"

Camila blinks in confusion. "Yes. Yesterday, remember? I followed you right to this house. I was afraid you'd lead me to one of your friend's houses and wait until I left to go home."

Luke looks thoughtful. It's written all over his face that he almost regrets not being smart enough to do exactly that. Camila smirks playfully. "Are you going to work today?"

Luke gently pushes her out of his way and mumbles "What else would I be doing on a Wednesday morning?"

“You could take me for a walk, show me your town,” Camila suggests batting her eyelashes at him and walking along.

“Seriously? You are going to accompany me to my work?”

From the way Luke sounds, Camila can’t tell whether he’s irritated at her for not leaving him alone or at himself for secretly enjoying it. But since there’s possibility that he likes her company, she decides to take her chances.

“I got a new film. I’ll just take photographs while you’re busy. Then I’m following you back to your house.” She goes backwards looking at Luke and smiling. “I’m telling you this so you won’t be surprised to see me later today.”

Luke sighs exasperatedly and tries to turn her around. “You will fall down and break something! Turn around immediately!”

Camila can’t hold herself back anymore. She leans in and pecks Luke on the cheek, making him blush and hide his eyes.

Luke mutters something under his breath and doesn’t meet her eyes until they stand in front of his office building. Before going inside, he orders her to go home again, but Camila is already busy with her camera. She manages to snatch a picture of Luke’s grumpy face and skips to the other end of the road to look at the building.

*****

“No!” Luke says, because there’s nothing else left to say.

“I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?” Camila is standing on a sidewalk, holding the covered camera and her purse in front of her chest. She’s tired but determined to wait for this man as long as it takes him to realize he’s not getting rid of her for the rest of his life.

“You did,” he says and moves past her. “I’m inviting you for dinner. Hope you like waterzooi.”

“I love it!” Camila exclaims although she has no idea what it is.

***** 

_2014_

In the evening, Gerard stumbles into a shitty looking pub a few streets down from the hotel and it draws him inside. He orders a beer and notes to himself that they at least play good music.

_I'm standing here on the ground_

_The sky above won't fall down_

_See no evil in all direction_

_Resolution of happiness_

_Things have been dark_

_For too long_

_Don’t Change_ by INXS starts playing, and suddenly it’s so hard to resist the old habit to have a cigarette while listening to a good song. At these moments, Gerard sees himself as a movie character, and the music is like a soundtrack. He desperately needs a cigarette.

Despite the shittness of the place, a no smoking sign is right there above the door. However, there’s a secluded corner with a small open window at the end of the room, and a group of five boys in their late teens is standing there, drinks in their hands. Gerard thinks they’re smoking and there’s an unspoken rule that allows you to take this spot and satisfy your craving for nicotine.

He walks past the boys closer to the window. The song is on its last chorus when he lights his cigarette. Gerard takes a long drag and closes his eyes in satisfaction, feeling his shoulders relax as he exhales the smoke from his lungs. Two drags later the song is over, and there are these two heartbeats of time when you still appreciate the goodness of the song and haven’t registered the fact that it ended yet, and then, _How do you do_ by Roxette starts playing.

Gerard doesn’t feel like a movie character anymore, instead, he feels stupid and self-conscious, the music sounds louder, making shivers run down his body in waves.

He turns around only to find out that the boys are staring at him and smirking. None of them has a cigarette, only glasses of cheap wine and beer, and the looks on their faces express amusement and curiosity.

Gerard feels old and out of place. It doesn’t feel right to throw the unfinished cigarette out of the window anymore. For all he knows, there could be a kitchen through there, or a storage room with empty cardboard boxes. Gerard swallows hard. The walls are painted light blue which doesn’t help either since he can’t even put out the butt on the wall. There still is an option to drop the damn thing on the floor and step on it, and Gerard is already considering doing the exact thing when one of the boys with bright red dreadlocks steps closer and says something. In French. This boy is the only one with a beer, and Gerard feels strangely relieved.

He’s wearing shorts and cheap grey canvas shoes in spite of the nasty rainy weather outside. There’s a tattoo on one of his calves, something with a star at the end, like a comet, but Gerard can’t tell from this angle. The boy is slim and tiny, in a holey t-shirt with a duck on the front, and his arms and hands are covered with bright tattoos.

He says something again and tilts his head up a little, a splash of another tattoo on his neck, but Gerard has to stop staring if he doesn’t want to get arrested for harassing a minor.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The boy glances at his friends and winks at one of them, then he turns back to Gerard. “I said do you have another cigarette?” He nods at Gerard’s hand.

Gerard looks at his still smoking cigarette and frowns. “Sure,” he digs his hand into his pocket. “Here.”

The boy takes the cigarette and Gerard lights it up for him.

For a short moment, they just stand there, staring.

“So,” the boy lets out a cloud of smoke. “Where are you from?”

Gerard suddenly feels cold. How exactly old is this boy? Isn’t Gerard breaking a dozen of laws for letting him smoke in a public place? What if they are going to make him buy booze for all of them now? He can’t even prove that he thought the guy was old enough. The boy looks like he’s twelve.

“Shit!” Gerard mutters. “I’ve gotta go.” He looks around and brushes the cigarette against the side of his jacket. Then he drops it on the floor and rushes outside, somewhere far away from this place, maybe even to the airport, and back home. Fuck all this persistent dreams and weird memories.

“Hey!” he hears the boy call after him when he’s opening the front door and running away.

***** 

_1939_

Luke’s house looks cozy from the outside, but on the inside it's even more welcoming. There's a kitchen and a living room on the ground floor and a washroom and a bedroom with a tiny balcony on the second.

After a small tour around, Luke leads Camila to the kitchen, and they chat while he's cooking their dinner. She wants to ask him about his past, where his family is, what his first love looked like, and the most important thing is why she sees pain in his eyes, but instead she just entertains him with stories from her college years, how she and her friends wasted their time between exams.

Luke is standing with his back to Camila and tries not to show his reaction, but she can see his shoulders shake when she's telling something particularly funny. She decides he's still a little angry at her for ruining his uneventful but peaceful life.

The broth he made is stronger-tasting than she's used to, but she loves it because it lets her learn about Luke a little bit more.

"I suppose, you're staying for the night, aren't you?" Luke asks, washing the plates in the sink.

She stands up and grabs her belongings from a chair. "Only if you don't mind. I can come by your house tomorrow and follow you to work again."

Luke slowly shakes his head. "I don't have to work tomorrow, and I'm not letting you ramble alone at night. Let's go."

At first, Camila thinks he's going to take his jacket and walk her home, but he leads her upstairs and to the bedroom.

"I changed the bedding in the morning. You can sleep here." Luke lights the candlelight at the nightstand and looks everywhere but at her.

"Oh," she teases, "you knew I was going to end up here eventually." When Luke doesn't respond, she adds. "Just admit this thought had crossed your mind at least once."

"I'll take the couch downstairs. Good night, Camila." Luke glances quickly at her and walks out of the room, his soft steps barely audible in the hallway.

*****

_2014_

Next day, Gerard calls Lindsey and asks her about the name of that street musician. Luckily, she recorded that part of the documentary and also tells him the name of his killer, the father of that girl he loved. Lindsey suggests finding out the fate of the girl too, because the story seems unfinished without it.

Gerard promises to look it up and goes to a State Library. He contemplates telling the librarian his true intentions or to just pretend to be a writer who makes a research for his next novel. He’s sure that they are used to meeting struggling writers who hang around and look for inspiration and new discoveries almost every day. Gerard even looks like an unfortunate writer. He’s lost weight because of the constant trips, and his insomnia finally caught up with him, so the black circles under his eyes appear very apt.

But no one seems to care what he wants as long as he uses the library for educational purposes, and the consultant even takes his time and shows him the journal with all birth and death certificates of the time period he needs.

By lunch time, he knows even more than he expected.

He buys a map of the cemetery right in the library and decides to go there first and then go grab some food.

With the map, he promptly finds the monument of the musician and puts a notepad and a pen near the tombstone under a small screen that keeps the candles dry from the rain.

“Hi there,” he sits on a stone next to the grave and squirms nervously. “I never talked to a dead man before, so…” he shakes his head. “I’ve heard you were a great man, and people loved you…I’m sure you miss writing music sometimes. That’s why I brought you this notebook. I wrote a few lines there. Hope it will be a real song one day. Maybe other people who come here continue writing it and somebody even sing it to you one day.” He sighs. “I eh…I know that your time ended suddenly, but I think you should be proud of yourself. Because love is worth dying for…” Gerard leaves out the fact he learned earlier this day that the girl he loved married a rich old man and died of tuberculosis three years after that.

*****

When the little raindrops start soaking into his clothes, he decides it’s a dinner time. He goes to a small café on Avenue Gambetta and orders pasta and hot tea.

Waiting for his food, he calls Mikey and tells him about yesterday’s episode at the bar.

Mikey laughs for a minute without a stop and then tells him to relax and let it go for a while.

 _“Gee, you’re an alien in a foreign country. Those people can take care of themselves,”_ Mikey tells him, still giggling.

“Well, I’m not here to buy them cigarettes and drinks,” Gerard taps the end of the fork against the tabletop angrily. The waiter brings him the order with a glare that could freeze the Mediterranean sea, and it settles down Gerard’s anger instantly.

 _“Did you get to the cemetery already?”_ Mikey asks.

“Yeah,” Gerard twists his lips, poking at the mass under a carbonara sauce, that’s supposed to be spaghetti, with the fork. His stomach growls, urging him to stop looking and eat. “But it feels like I’ve been here before. Everything seems so familiar…”

 _“This is really weird Gee,”_ Mikey sounds disturbed.

“Don’t worry. It’s probably my vivid imagination. I felt the same in Bruges. When are you leaving by the way?” Gerard tries to change the subject.

_“Tomorrow. I would have stayed longer but Ray and Jared have already arrived to London, and they threatened to leave without me if I don’t meet them in two days. Fuckers.”_

Gerard chuckles, trying not to choke on the food. “I’d like to see the three of you arguing about who’s going to drive next.”

 _“You will be so jealous when I start sending you pictures of our road trip. Just wait,”_ Mikey promises.

When Gerard ends the call, he orders coffee and asks for the bill.

When he’s about to leave, a few young men start an argument in the café, and it seems like the three of them were just sitting here while five others walked in and started picking on them.

Gerard doesn’t understand what they’re talking about but he recognizes one of the boys from yesterday. The same red dreadlocks and the same t-shirt with a duck. Does he wear any other clothes?

The familiar boys belongs to a smaller group and he and his friends look peaceful and harmless but five others are muscular and aggressive, their body language express nothing but desire to hit something or someone and tear it apart.

The waiter comes by and demands they stop the fight and get the fuck out of his café. Gerard understands the universal fuck off language. When the huge boys leave, the waiter asks the others to leave too. They argue half-heartedly but stand up. The boy with dreadlocks turns to look in the window, maybe to find out if their opponents have already left, and sees Gerard.

He waves at him with a wide grin.

“Je te vois plus tard, d'accord?” He tells to his friends, and they leave without him, blowing out the air grumpily and flapping their hands as if scaring crows.

Gerard watches him come closer and sit across from Gerard at the table.

“Hello again,” he says with a smile and amazingly beautiful accent. “You ran away so suddenly yesterday.”

Gerard frowns. “How large is Paris? What are the chances we’d meet again? Were you following me?”

The boy laughs. “I swear I wasn’t following you. My studio is nearby. I am an artist.”

Gerard sucks his lower lip in his mouth and chews on it. “Okay. What do you want?”

The boy shrugs, looking at Gerard’s lip, now wet and glistening. “I don’t know? What is your name? I am Frank.” He beams brightly.

Gerard rolls his eyes. Fucking accent. “Nice to meet you Frank. Do you happen to have an ID on you? The real one that says your age?”

Frank laughs, loud and melodically. “Of course.” He shoves his hand in his shorts pocket. “You should have asked yesterday, it that’s what you’re concerned about.” He puts the driver’s license on the table and pushes it to Gerard. “I’ve been legal for almost ten years.”

Gerard studies the document. It says Frank is twenty seven years old. He looks at him and shakes his head. “I don’t believe it.”

Frank shrugs. “You can call my professor. I study at the Université Paris-Sorbonne; he’s my leading instructor and reviewer.” Frank’s already dialing someone on his phone and giving it to Gerard. “Come on, take it. So you wouldn’t think I told him a secret code word or something.”

Gerard scrunches up his face. “Maybe not saying anything is a secret code.”

Frank rolls his eyes. He waits for the answer, but the call goes to a voice mail. “He’s probably giving a lecture. We can go to the University and you can ask yourself.”

Gerard huffs. “What makes you think I have nothing else to do?”

Frank leans closer to Gerard across the table and squints at him. “I don’t know? Do you have anything else to do? You look like a nice guy. I want to know your name.”

Gerard shrugs. “It’s Gerard.”

Frank’s eyes go wide. “French name! Where are you from, Gerard?”

His name shouldn’t sound so beautiful to Gerard’s ears. “From the US.” He sulks.

Frank stands up and reaches his hand to Gerard. “Let’s go, Gerard from the US. I’ll show you around.”

Gerard looks up at him. “What makes you so sure I wanna go with you?”

Frank shrugs. “Nothing. But I still want to spend the rest of the day with you. Unless you have other plans, of course.”

Gerard doesn’t have any plans at all. He stands up and ignores Frank’s hand. Maybe because he doesn’t want Frank to know he’s nervous. “Okay. Lead the way.”

*****

_1939_

Camila sleeps like a baby, and it confuses her at first when she wakes up in the middle of the night with a foreboding feeling. She frowns and looks at the window. She didn't close the curtains, and the room is lit up with gentle moonlight.

Then she hears whimpers coming from downstairs. She doesn't think, just throws away the covers and pads down to the living room to find Luke muttering something unintelligible in his sleep and his whole body jerking.

She whispers his name a couple of times but he doesn't wake up and goes on whimpering. She kneels in front of the couch and puts one hand on his chest, feeling the calm and steady beat of his heart. Luke lets out a pained cry, and she leans closer, kissing his cheeks and forehead, stroking his head with the other hand. The louder he cries the more desperate her kisses become, and eventually he wakes up, falling silent and still. Camila feels his heartbeat quicken as he becomes aware of her presence. She doesn't move, just waits for him to push her away which he does maybe a bit reluctantly.

She gets on her feet and realizes she's wearing only her underwear in front of a complete stranger. But he doesn't feel like a stranger, more like an old friend or even a former lover, if she’d known how a former lover feels. She shrugs and wraps her arms around her middle.

"You were having a bad dream," she whispers, and her words break the quietness of the room.

Luke nods, swallowing loudly and standing up. He's wearing a long cotton shirt and makes sure it covers his legs when he gets up and limps to the kitchen.

When he returns with a glass of water, Camila is waiting for him, sitting on the couch.

"I'm sorry," he says, sitting next to her and handing her the water.

She takes it with a shrug. “You know, we can stay here and try to squeeze onto this couch or we could go upstairs and lay on a nice, comfortable bed. Either way, I’m staying with you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Okay,” Luke agrees.

Surprised by the lack of resistance, Camila hides her confusion by taking time drinking her water.

It takes them a while to climb the stairs in the dark, but Camila is so happy, feeling the warmth of Luke's hand, hearing him breathe, she can’t even believe she has been living all these years and never knew this man. She can’t stop the shiver from the thought that she could have never gone to that bridge and they could have never met at all.

In the bedroom, Luke lingers at the bed, but sighs and takes off his shirt. Camila can see the healed scars left from the war. She wants to touch them with her fingertips, but doesn't move, afraid to scare Luke off. He doesn't hesitate afterwards, lying on the bed, and patting a spot next to him, looking up at Camila.

Her cheeks are burning and her heart is fluttering while she takes off her shirt and lets it slip to the floor. The light from the street doesn't reach Luke's face, but she hears him gasp, and it makes her smile confidently.

She knows she's beautiful, but she wants to see her own reflection in Luke's eyes, knowing she'll see the real Camila there, the one she's so desperately searching for.

She puts her hand on Luke's shoulder and supports herself while sitting on Luke's lap, her legs on either side. Luke's watching her eyes constantly, but Camila knows he wants to touch.

She traces his cheekbone with her finger, reaches for his hand, and puts it on her breasts, letting it rest there. Luke's fingers twitch when he touches the soft skin of her chest but he doesn't jerk it back. Instead, he slides his hand under her left breast and squeezes it very gently. This time they both gasp, and Camila has to close her eyes for a second, because no one ever touched her like this, and she doesn't know how she's supposed to respond. She just needs to shut the world down and listen to her intuition.

Luke leans in and pecks her right nipple, rubbing the left one between his fingers. A moan escapes Camila's throat that makes Luke slip his free hand behind her back and tug her closer, so their chests are flushed together. He lifts her head by the chin and kisses her hungrily.

Camila kisses back. This is so new, so hot and crazy, but she wants more, her pussy is screaming for attention, and she can feel Luke's hardness against her stomach. She rakes a hand in his soft hair and pulls him back, their foreheads touching and breaths mingle.

"You going to have to tell me what to do, okay?" Camila whispers hoarsely while her hand wanders down to untie the string holding Luke's pants in place.

He swallows and helps her with the ties. She has to move away from his lap so he can remove his underwear and to get rid of her own panties. They're already wet. When she's ready, she looks up at Luke and sees him sitting naked, his cock straining against his belly at full attention.

She straddles his lap again while he’s stroking her arms and shoulders. Luke puts her hands around his neck and reaches down between her legs to stroke the soft skin and spread the wetness. She gasps for a breath, and Luke pulls her in for a kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth and licking the inside of her lower lip.

They’re kissing like that while Luke keeps rubbing her pussy. Camila thinks he's prepping her for his cock, but Luke seems content with what he's doing, so she relaxes and trusts him to make her feel amazing.

That changes two things. She can see clearly now that she's fallen in love with this man and this intimate moment between them is exactly what she wants; her pussy starts tightening around his fingers, and there seems to be something else, aching to be touched, so she braces her hands on Luke's shoulders, presses him closer to her chest and rocks her hips, trying to match Luke's strokes and let his fingers sink in deeper while he devours her breasts with his mouth, squeezing them with his free hand and humming happily.

Then all her body strains, and there’s a wave of inexplicable pleasure and a strong desire for more. She squeezes her eyes shut and buries her face in Luke’s hair enjoying his fingers still being there, sharing her pleasure, until it’s all too much and she whimpers and Luke draws his hand away, stroking her back and the curve of her bottom.

She pants for a few seconds and finally opens her eyes only to find Luke watching her with a warm smile on his face. He’s still hard, and there’s a wet patch of skin on his thighs where she’s been sitting. She swipes her palm between her legs and closes it around Luke’s cock. He doesn’t expect that but lets out an appreciative moan, and Camila feels him twitching against her hand. She starts stroking him slowly, careful not to break the silky skin but soon he bites on his lips and puts his hand on hers, urging her to stroke harder and faster.

She complies and watches his chin jerk each time she swipes her thumb against the head of his cock. The power she has over him makes her dizzy and lightheaded, and she kisses his mouth just to let him know how much she likes what’s happening between them. At the same moment, Luke’s cock strains under her fingers and warm, wet, and thick liquid spreads between her hand and his belly. She remembers how good it felt to orgasm while Luke’s fingers were still inside of her, so she strokes him until he stops shuddering and takes in a sharp breath.

They stay connected through their mouths for a while, breathing each other’s scents, and neither of them wants to break the skin contact, but Camila’s legs are already sore, and there’s a chance that her knees are going to protest if she tries to straighten up her legs, so she has to climb off Luke’s lap. He helps her sit beside him on the bed and gives a clean towel to wipe her hand. Then he wipes his belly and cock and lies down on the pillow. Camila pecks his nose and feels fuzzy and tired. She settles down with her back pressed to Luke’s chest and tugs his hand around her torso to put it on her breasts.

They fall into a restful sleep soon after.

*****

_2014_

_Too many screamers_

_Wearing a mask_

_Too many dreamers_

_Looking for the ones that last_

_Too many eyes_

_Looking for hope_

_Too many tears_

_Looking for a way to cope_

_It's no joke_

Frank asks Gerard a lot of questions, from what he does to where his most wild dreams live. He tells Gerard he lives in the apartment his grandmother left him, while his parents live in Italy. Gerard learns that Frank is a pavement artist and that he’s supposed to graduate this year but his professor doesn’t want to allow him to the final exams because of his constant absence.

He doesn’t know anything about My Chemical Romance at all but he likes music and he has a great collection of old records of singers and songwriters from sixties. He promises to show them to Gerard sometime.

Gerard shakes his head and fights back a smile. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

Frank winks at him and leans closer. “Yes, made in France!” he says happily. Frank takes Gerard by the hand and doesn’t let go.

Gerard thinks he’s a little in love with the guy.

*****

“I am not going there!” Gerard almost yells when Frank tries to shove him into the scary looking basement. “I have nothing against you, Frank, but it’s late, and I’m not going anywhere that involves old buildings, closed spaces, and darkness. Sorry.”

Frank lifts up his shoulders to his ears, throwing his hands in front of Gerard, palms out. “Look at me! Do I look like some pervert? You’re bigger than me! You probably can break my neck using only one hand.”

Gerard crosses his arms in front of his chest, offended. “There could be a bunch of other perverts waiting for all I know!” He raises his voice at the end.

Frank shakes his head and rubs his face, frustrated. It’s really cold outside, and Gerard shivers in his jacket. He can’t even imagine how Frank feels in only a t-shirt. But Frank doesn’t look cold, just sad. Gerard wants to reach his head and pat his shoulder, even to go to that god damned basement, only to make him smile.

There is a police officer parking his motorbike across the street. He sees Frank and waves his hand at him. “Salut! Frankie! Au boulot, comment ça va?”

Frank waves back. “Hi, Raul! I was just asking my friend to come in and see my work! Do you want to join?”

“Oh, le touriste,” the officer fixes his cap. “I wish I could join you, but my shift starts in a few minutes. Have a great time!” And he disappears behind the doors of what turns out to be a police station at a closer look.

“You see!” Frank points at the station building. “I would never be stupid enough and lure strangers in front of the police station. The whole block is under surveillance for twenty four hours, seven days a week.”

“Okay, okay,” Gerard sticks his palms out. “I’ll go.”

“Really?” Frank asks hopefully, and Gerard rolls his eyes with a huff.

Before he opens the door to the studio, Frank asks Gerard to wear three-dimensional glasses and close his eyes.

“Do you seriously think I’d do that?” Gerard asks incredulously.

“Come on,” Frank whines. “You already got this far. I just want it to be a surprise. If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave any time. Just give me a chance.”

Gerard hates when people make a fuss out of something he likes or dislikes. He’s not important. “Give me that,” he grabs the glasses from Frank’s hand and puts them on, closing his eyes. “Happy now?” He asks, annoyed.

Frank squeaks and gently pushes him inside the room that smells like grade school class and is quiet like a graveyard in the night.

“Can I open my eyes already?” Gerard asks when Frank stops pushing him.

“Just one more second. I’ll close the door and turn on the light.”

Every hair on Gerard’s body stands up at the words but he doesn’t say a word. The door closes with a metal clang and there is a sound of a light switch being shifted. The room lights up and Gerard jerks his head instinctively.

“Open them now,” Frank says.

Gerard complies and it takes him a few seconds to adjust to the spatial difference between the normal view and the one he sees through the glasses. Then he looks down first. He’s standing in a circle maybe ten feet in diameter and there are moving pictures around him.

He freezes and the pictures freeze too. He shifts from foot to foot, and the pictures move again.

“What do you say?” Frank asks, standing behind his back.

Gerard jumps, surprised, and pulls the glasses off his face. Everything changes, and there are no figures anymore, only distorted forms and awkwardly shaped lines. “What is it?”

Frank shrugs. “Three-dimensional pictures. You can only see them through lenses or a camera. Without it, they make no sense.”

Gerard looks around. “No, they do.” He takes a few steps forward but stops when he’s standing on a border of the circle. “Why did you draw this circle?”

“It’s like a reference point. Only standing inside this circle you can see all the figures in their correct shape. I had to calculate everything.”

Gerard puts on the glasses again. Now, he can look properly. There are comic-book characters and famous scenes from the old movies. Gerard looks at the scene from Luc Besson’s Subway where they’re watching the welding and its sparks fly around like Bengal fire, and he thinks those sparks are really hot and dangerous, but he can’t tear his eyes away.

“This is amazing,” he murmurs under his breath. He doesn’t notice as his legs move on their own, and soon he can’t see anything but splashes of color. He stumbles upon something and loses his glasses. ”Fuck!”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you…”

“You painted the furniture too?” Gerard asks, looking at a painted chair in bewilderment.

Frank hums, standing behind him. “I couldn’t throw them away. Besides, they help with the angles.”

Gerard giggles. “You are crazy.” But he finds the glasses again, wipes them against his t-shirt, and keeps looking at the pictures. “You’re a crazy and talented motherfucker.”

Frank doesn’t answer and Gerard can sense the tension in the room. He turns to look at Frank and sees the other man shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, removing the glasses and putting them on something with a shape of a coffee table.

Frank rubs his neck. Gerard looks at his tattoos again and wants to taste them. “I want to kiss you but I’m not sure I ever done this with a man.”

Gerard snorts. “Do you think there’s a difference?”

Frank shrugs. Gerard can see his hands are shaking. He pulls Frank close and traces his lips with his fingertips and then kisses tenderly.

Frank moans in his mouth and snakes his hands behind Gerard’s back. Frank’s skin is so hot, no wonder he doesn’t notice the cold outside. After a minute, Gerard pauses for a breath and touches their foreheads together.

“I definitely haven’t done anything even remotely close to this,” Frank wheezes.

Gerard snorts and pushes him backwards until Frank’s back is pressed to the chalk-covered wall. He kisses him eagerly this time, and it feels like a breath of fresh air after a lifetime underground. Or a gulp of clean spring water although Gerard has no idea how spring water tastes. But he thinks it’s like kissing Frank.

Frank rests his arms on Gerard’s shoulders and raises his legs to lock them around Gerard’s hips, groaning when they press together.

Gerard puts his hands under Frank’s thighs and holds him still while Frank unbuckles Gerard’s belt and unzips his jeans. Then, he does the same with his own shorts and gasps loudly when Gerard presses their naked groins together.

Gerard wants to get rid of their t-shirts too because Frank’s skin feels like heaven on his own but he can’t. He’s too busy rubbing against Frank and the endless stream of words that escapes Frank’s mouth doesn’t help to stop either.

The only thing he can do is to lock their mouths together and catch every word Frank has to say, taste every sound he makes, lick his lips and bite on his tongue.

“Je te veux tellement,” Frank whispers and shudders, letting the wetness spread all over their bellies. Gerard looks at his blissed out face and loses it too, still moving against Frank’s oversensitive skin.

They pant, sharing each other’s breaths and sweating through their clothes until Frank unhooks his legs and Gerard lets his thighs down.

Frank doesn’t even try to stand on his feet. Relaxed as a rag doll, he sinks down the wall and sits on the floor stretching out his legs.

“Wow,” he says, looking up at Gerard. “Do you have cigarettes?”

Gerard sits on the floor next to him, Indian style, not caring one bit that his soft cock is right there on display. “Aren’t we supposed to not smoke here?”

Frank shakes his head. “It’s chalk, Gee.”

Gerard smiles at the nickname and tries to hide his pleased blush. “There’s only two left,” he says, opening the pack.

“Let’s share then,” Frank says and reaches out for a can of coke that suddenly appears in his hands. Gerard only guesses it is coke because it’s painted too.

“You’ve learned every inch of this room, haven’t you?” Gerard asks, lighting a cigarette.

Frank opens the can and takes a sip. “It’s not ice cold, but it works for me,” he hands the can to Gerard.

They switch the can and the cig for a few times in silence and then Frank nods. “You have to be aware of every centimeter of the structure you want to paint, otherwise it won’t live, you know.

Gerard nods. He’s perfectly comfortable and there’s no place in the world he’d rather be at the moment. He studies the painting on the floor, on part of which he’s sitting, and after a while his eyes stumble upon Frank’s calf and the mysterious tattoo with a star on the end. “What is it?” He asks, tracing the piece with his fingers.

Frank looks down at his legs as if he doesn’t remember what he has there and waves his hand. “One of my first tattoos. It’s a Phoenix.” He puts the butt out in the empty can and moves it aside.

“But the Phoenix is a bird. I don’t see any birds here, unless, I need those glasses again.”

Frank giggles. “No, you don’t. The Phoenix is a bird only before it burns to ashes. Then it arises from it again. When I think of it as a bird, I know soon it’s going to be a handful of dust, but when I look at the burning flame, I know soon I’ll see the bird.”

Gerard looks at the tattoo and runs his fingers over it again and again, until he hears Frank’s stifled moan.

He looks up to Frank’s face but stops in the middle, appreciating the hardened flesh sticking out of his still open shorts. Gerard touches the tattoo again and smiles when Frank’s cock answers with a small jump.

Suddenly, Frank starts pulling off his shoes, and then the rest of his clothes. Gerard tries to follow but he can’t find a clean spot to put his black leather jacket, so he’s standing on his knees on the painted floor and holding the jacket in his outstretched hand, unable to do anything.

Frank laughs, pads to the door, snatching the jacket on his way, and hangs it on a peg sticking from the wall. Then he tackles Gerard to the floor and pulls off his t-shirt and jeans as far as possible. Gerard tries to cooperate but the second their bare chests and groins collide, he can’t think of anything but, yes, more, here and more again.

Frank keeps spitting out something like “oh oui, encore,” and “c'est si bon”, but when Gerard takes his face in his hands to look him in the eyes, Frank says “embrasse-moi,” and pulls his in a long and desperate kiss.

Gerard has never dived before but it definitely feels like he’s sinking underwater, or maybe reality is not so real anymore, or Frank made him choose between the red and the blue pill when he asked Gerard to go to this basement. It doesn’t matter anymore, because all that matters is Frank.

Frank rolls them over a few times, covering their skin in chalk and smearing it over their faces, but finally he lies down on the floor, locking Gerard between his legs and grabs his ass cheeks, pulling their groins even closer together, and making soft satisfied noises in the back of his throat.

Gerard breaks the kiss to bite on Frank’s shoulder and comes so hard sparks are flying out of his eyes. Frank screams, really fucking screams like he’s in pain or something and then comes too, still holding Gerard’s ass, digging his blunt fingernails into soft skin.

Gerard’s hands can’t hold him anymore, and he falls down on Frank, making him grunt weakly.

“Sorry,” Gerard rasps.

“S’okay,” Frank pats his back and finally relaxes his legs, letting Gerard move. Gerard sniffs Frank’s chin. “What?” Frank asks. “Do I stink?”

Gerard follows the scent and stops only when he’s close to Frank’s own nose. “You breathe out something extremely delicious.”

Frank makes a loud chuckle. “I am not giving it up whatever it is.”

Gerard kisses his cheek. “I don’t think it has any use without the rest of your body.” And after a pause. “It’s late. I should go back to my hotel.”

“Okay,” Frank agrees. “I’ll walk you to it.”

*****

_1707_

“I am free, my love!” Helena clings to Anton and kisses his lips, humming happily.

Anton giggles and pushes her away gently. “Free from what?”

She jumps aside and twirls a few times and then kisses Anton again. “I ran away from home. We can get married if you want!”

Anton rubs his eyes and sighs heavily. “The only comfort is that soon I will die and you can return to your father and ask for his forgiveness.”

Helena glares at him. “I’m not going back. And you will not die. I’ve made a deal. It’s coming for us.”

“You what?” Anton shakes his head. “What deal?”

She hides her eyes. “When we fall asleep, it will take our lives to seal the deal and if we won’t wake up, that should mean I succeeded. It worked.”

Anton takes her hands in his. “My love, what have you done? How could you do that to us?”

Helena wrinkles her nose angrily. “I did what I had to do! I’m not watching you die and do nothing. I would have died by your side but I just can’t. I’m too selfish to give up.”

Anton turns away from her and shakes out his arms. Helena walks closer and puts a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. “Don’t be scared my love, I will protect us. I know you’re against all kinds of magic, but believe me, it’s different.”

Anton brushes his hand through a rose bush he’s standing nearby and winces as sharp thorns break his skin. “How can it be different? It’s wrong! It’s worse than being a monster! I am not giving up my soul!”

Helena rushes to him and takes his bloody hand in her hands. She tries to kiss his wound, but Anton snatches his hand away. “It’s not like that my love. No one is taking your soul.” She looks down and frowns at the realization. “In fact, our souls are the only proof that we’re still the same, that we love each other. We will die and be born again and again until we both remember ourselves.”

Anton’s breathing calms down. “How do we find each other then? How do we remember? What if we’re born on different lands, different continents, different cultures?”

Helena smiles and winks at him. “That’s the trick.” She spins around again and jumps on her feet. “We’re going to see the future, my love!” Then her face becomes serious, and she takes Anton by his arms and squeezes tight. “I will find you. I swear. I will find you wherever you are. But please, don’t tell me anything. I mean, it’s a deal-breaker if one of us tries to jog the other’s memory. We’re supposed to remember by ourselves. No prompts.”

Anton nods. “Once again, a woman decides my fate.”

“No! You can refuse! I am not making you do this for me.” Helena lets go of him and steps back. “You need to be here. With me. Otherwise it’s useless.”

“I am doing this for you and myself. You’re all that I treasure in this life, and if this is the way for our love to become never-ending, then I am willing to take my chances.” Anton smiles and gets down on one knee. “Helena Raulin, will you honor me and become my wife?”

Helena looks at the sky, murmurs something under her breath and smiles, taking Anton’s outstretched hand. “I will, my love. It is my honor to become your wife and share your fate.”

*****

_1939_

Camila wakes up to the merry sounds of the birds outside. She blinks her eyes open and looks at the other side of the bed. It’s not occupied, and for the first time in her life it feels wrong. Of course, she fell asleep in Luke’s arms last night, and now he isn’t here. She remembers him saying that he didn’t have to work today, so if he’s having second thoughts about what happened last night, she has a few things to tell him before he gets rid of her.

She slides down from the bed and pads downstairs, naked, and barefoot. The living room is empty, but she hears some rustling in the kitchen and smells something delicious being cooked.

Luke is facing the stove and doesn’t see her come in, but her sigh of relief is too loud to pass unnoticed.

He turns around and stumbles, dropping the spoon he’s been using to stir something in the bowl, when he sees her standing in front of him.

Camila doesn’t wait for him to start crouching down awkwardly and snatches the spoon from the floor putting it into the sink and taking a new spoon from the drawer.

“I’m not used to seeing beautiful women in my kitchen,” he says, taking the spoon from her hand. “Or any other parts of my house,” he adds quickly.

Camila looks down at her body. Her girlfriends were always jealous of her effortless beauty; the black shiny hair, thin waist and pert ass and breasts, the silken skin of her neck and shoulders. But what she sees in Luke’s eyes is something completely different.

“Photography’s been my hobby since my father bought me a camera on my tenth birthday,” Camila says suddenly, making Luke raise an eyebrow. She smiles at him at takes the hand he hasn’t covered in flour and kisses his fingers. “Photographers use their equipment and play with the light and perspective to catch the uniqueness of each person. But you…your heart is like a sensitive film that catches every detail…I can tell you love me because your eyes are the window to your heart. And like your heart, they never lie. I’ve never felt as beautiful and wanted as I do when I see myself in your eyes.”

She sees it, the flame of passionate desire sparkling in his eyes, and for a second she thinks he’s going to take her right here and now, maybe on the dining table, and she’s not surprised to acknowledge that she’s one hundred percent in for it, but Luke just draws her closer and kisses fervently, biting on her lips and sliding his wandering hands all over her body.

*****

_2014_

_My computer thinks I'm gay_

_I threw that piece of junk away_

_On the Champs-Elysées_

_As I was walking home_

_This is my last communique_

_Down the super highway_

_All that I have left to say in a single tome_

_I got too many friends_

_Too many people that I'll never meet_

_And I'll never be there for_

_I'll never be there for_

_'Cause I'll never be there_

Gerard opens his eyes with a smile. He doesn’t remember why he feels so good yet, but he likes the tingling sensation in his chest. He turns on his side and sees a heap of dirty clothes on the floor. Frank.

Last night, before Frank finally let him disappear inside the hotel, they stood under a street lamp and kissed like horny teenagers, sticky and covered in chalk.

Gerard spent almost an hour in the shower afterwards, trying to wash off the powder from his skin and hair. He wished he could leave it for a little longer, but there was a nasty rash on his belly already, and he didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of skin peeling off his flesh.

Frank told him that there is some fluorescent substance in the chalk that helps with the three-dimensional perspective, and he particularly asked Gerard to shower as soon as possible. He also suggested that Gerard think about him when he’s in the shower, and Gerard had to hide his eyes, because he doubted he could think about anything else but Frank for the next couple of weeks, and he wasn’t ready to admit it even to himself. But something was telling him Frank already knew.

They completely forgot to exchange phone numbers, and the worst part of this fact is that now Gerard can’t even hope to see Frank again. It is one hundred percent up to him, because Frank knows where to find Gerard and Gerard can’t even remember the name of the street Frank’s basement’s located on.

Nevertheless, he’s still full of hope when he opens the door outside the building and sees a very happy raccoon with a bunch of flowers drawn right there, on the pavement, and a very excited Frank standing a few feet away, leaning on a lamp post.

Now he understands the nature of the dirty smirk a receptionist threw at him when he walked past her.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” Gerard says instead of a thank you.

Frank takes a few steps forward and hides his hands in his shorts’ pockets. “But you were hoping, right?”

Gerard ducks his head, blushing. “This is very cool, thank you.”

Frank is now standing right in front of him and pulling at random strands of hair on Gerard’s face. “You are welcome. I made a standard two-dimensional version, so you can see it without glasses.”

Gerard laughs nervously. “You know, it's just occurred to me that…” He brushes the hair from his face and takes Frank’s hands in his. “Considering the fact that you’re a crazy motherfucker, that raccoon could be an elephant with three dicks instead of flowers…Thank you for not drawing anything embarrassing.”

Frank snorts. “Who do you think I am? Dali?” He pecks Gerard on the nose and stands on his tiptoes to whisper in Gerard’s ears. “I am a romantic.” And Gerard sees no reason why they are still not kissing.

*****

_1939_

Their time together is different. She’s no longer stalking him, but he’s showing her his town, the narrow streets, and quiet canals. Camila watches Luke from the corner of her eye and sometimes catches him staring at her in admiration.

They eat lunch in a small brasserie and after that Luke takes her for a boat ride. They sit in the boat with Camila’s back pressed to Luke’s chest and his arms linked around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. The boatman doesn’t try to entertain them, knowing this is not necessary. He just drives them around town until the darkness falls and exchanges a few words with Luke in Flemish.

Camila wants to ask if they’re talking about her, but by the serious look on his face she decides it has something to do with the events in Europe, so she keeps her curiosity at bay.

They go to a small restaurant for dinner and get a table in a secluded corner. Luke orders two beers for them and Camila laughs because she never had beer on a date before because it’s considered to be a man’s beverage.

Luke mutters grumpily that the history of the beverage isn’t supposed to define who’s allowed to drink it, but his face becomes emotionless when he asks Camila about her fiancé.

“Are you going back to him? When are you going back home?”

Camila puts her hand on his and looks him in the eyes. “I am not going back. Why would I do that after I found you? Me and Jeremy never loved each other the way a wife and a husband are supposed to. It was our parents’ idea, and we just didn’t want to protest. Besides, I am twenty nine. Who’s going to marry an old maid?”

Luke shakes his head with a smile. “You’re very beautiful and smart. Any man would be honored to be your husband.”

Camila winks at him. “Want to take your chances?” When Luke’s eyes widen, she chuckles. “I’m not asking you to marry me, yet. Don’t worry. I’m disappointed in the institute of marriage.” She raises her index finger and wags it at Luke. “And you’re wrong. All men love beautiful women, most of them want to have a beautiful wife but only a small part of them likes smart ones, _a fortiori_ , wants to marry them.”

Luke looks at her with amusement written all over his face and says gently, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. What did I do to deserve you?”

Camila can’t hold back a smile.

They eat their dinner in silence, but they don’t steal glances anymore. Luke’s watching her all the time now, and she can’t help but anticipate the rest of the evening. Her panties are already wet and her heart flutters in her chest. Her ears and cheeks are burning but the dim light in the restaurant saves her from being too obvious. It’s useless though, to hide something from Luke, because she’s sure he can feel her arousal in the air. She knows he’s nervous by the jerky movements he makes while paying for their bill, but she needs to touch him or taste his skin before she knows he wants her too.

They walk to Luke’s house holding hands and with their sides pressed close to each other. It’s not a walk of pleasure, it’s the task they need to complete before they’re on their own and can continue exploring each other’s bodies.

Once the front door is closed, Camila excuses herself to use the washroom and hides there to calm down her heart and take a breath.

She takes off her clothes, makes a feeble attempt to wash her last panties in the sink, and cleans herself a little. She looks in the mirror and smiles to herself. She’s so happy.

When she edges into the bedroom, Luke has already lit a candle on the bedside table and is sitting on the bed naked. Camila feels the soft warmth coming from the candlelight when she walks to the bed and lets Luke watch as the shadows play with the curves of her body. When he gestures for her to move closer, she hides her eyes and looks away.

“What is it?” He asks worriedly.

Camila kisses his cheeks and walks to the chair where she left her purse. She digs out a small tin box that looks like a cigarette case. “I took it from Jeremy’s drawer a few months ago when I was dating that other guy and thought that something might happen between us, but he turned out to be a bore so it was left unused,” she raises the box for Luke to see. “I think they’re still applicable.”

Luke knows these boxes very well. “They gave us condoms in the army,” he takes the box with a soft smile. “I think I still have one of them somewhere,” he looks up at the closet and then at Camila. “But they’re definitely out of date.”

Camila shrugs and shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here,” he puts the box on the bedside table and pulls her closer by the hand. “Were you comfortable yesterday sitting on my legs?”

Camila straddles his legs again and puts her hands on his shoulders, leaning in and kissing him wetly and dirty. “Yes,” she whispers and feels Luke’s cock straining between them.

Luke swallows audibly. “It’s better if you control the movements. I haven’t…for a long time, and I don’t know if I…my leg….”

Camila silences him with a kiss. “Just tell me what do, okay?” She says and reaches for the box.

Luke takes one rolled up condom from the box and smoothers it on his cock, taking his time to fix it at the base. Then he leans back on the pillow and lifts Camila by the hips, guiding her closer and just above the head of his cock. He preps her entrance with his fingers, moaning softly when he learns how wet and relaxed she is, and then rests his hands on her sides, holding her in place.

“Go with your own pace that makes you feel comfortable,” he murmurs and closes his eyes.

Camila lowers her body down, feeling the pressure but breathing steadily and knowing from the first time why sex is considered to be such a big deal. It gives you pleasure and lets you feel owned by another man or a woman, but at the same time it provides you with the power over your partner to make him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

“Open your eyes, Luke,” she says in a low voice, still edging down. “I want you to see it.”

Luke takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. His pupils are blown, and he whines when he looks down at their joined bodies. Camila groans, loving every second of it. She stays still for a minute or two, letting her body adjust to a new thing inside it and then leans in to kiss Luke’s neck. He slides his hands down from her hips to squeeze her ass and then further down between her thighs to stretch the soft skin a little and make her slide in deeper. Camila moans into his collarbone and feels the drops of sweat forming on her skin and dripping down to be smeared between their bodies. She braces herself against the headboard and starts rocking her hips back and forth, sliding her chest against Luke’s and nibbling on his lips, licking his face, breathing hot air against him.

Luke squeezes his eyes shut again, holds her thighs tight and takes it. He whimpers from time to time but mostly he’s silently concentrating on not shooting his load right away. Eventually, he loses this battle, his eyes and mouth snapping open, raising up from the pillow and screaming from pleasure as it surges through his every muscle and shakes his body to the core.

Camila is drenched in sweat and her thighs shake from tension, but when she feels Luke’s cock jerking inside her, she falls down on his chest and wraps her arms around his neck, letting him take care of the rest.

Luke pants for a few moments then turns them over so Camila’s lying on the bed and slips out of her, holding the condom in place and making sure nothing spilled outside.

He takes it off and throws on the floor, wiping his cock with a damp towel.

Then he returns his attention to Camila who’s lying silently on the bed, breathing deeply and steadily.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear. “Are you feeling all right?”

Camila opens one eye and smiles tiredly. “You are going to have to find a lot of those boxes.”

Luke snorts and kisses her on the lips while his hand wanders down to her pussy to stroke her clit until her mind whites out.

*****

Camila wakes up in the middle of the night because she’s cold. The door to the balcony is open and she tries to remember why she’s lying naked in the stranger’s bed. Her legs and bottom protest to every move she makes. It’s like she’s been riding horseback the whole day before. Slowly, she recalls that it wasn’t a horse, just a man’s cock, but it definitely feels like horseback. She climbs off the bed and puts on Luke’s blazer that’s long enough to cover her ass.

Luke’s sitting on a bench on the balcony and watching the water in the canal. There’s a soft light from the street lamp on the smooth surface of the water, and the moonlight on Luke’s face makes him look like a ghost.

“Hey,” Camila says, reassuring herself.

Luke turns to look at her and smiles. “Hey yourself,” he answers, holding his hand out.

She takes it and sits down on the bench next to him. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Luke kisses her and puts his forehead on her shoulder. “It’s just…” He sighs. “I thought my life was destroyed by the war. I never had a relationship in my life, and the only thing I had was my town. I wanted to restore it and it became the purpose of my life, but now…Now there are so many feelings in my heart I can’t believe I never wanted to have them before.” He looks Camila in the eyes and smiles bitterly. “I have no idea how we’re going to make it together. You’re so bright, so smart, and enthusiastic. What are you going to do here?”

Camila wants to draw him in a hug but his right leg is blocking the way, so she just pats his back comfortingly. “I love you, and I’m going to stay with you wherever you are. Maybe not in Bruges, because it’s unlikely that I’ll find a job here, but in Brussels I’m sure I’ll find something. We’ll meet every weekend; it’s not so far from here, really.” When Luke gives her an incredulous look, she adds, “Look, I want to have a future with you, and it doesn’t matter if we’re ready for this or not. We will figure it out because we love each other. Do you trust me on this?”

Luke nods. “I do.”

“Good,” Camila says, standing up and stepping over his outstretched leg and kneeling in front of him. “Now, lift your ass so I can move this stupid night gown of yours.”

Luke lifts up on one leg so Camila can push up the hem of his long shirt and watches her curiously. “It’s not stupid. I like it very much.” He’s sitting on the wooden bench on his bare ass now and Camila is trying to fit in between his legs and take a hold of his hardening cock. “Might I ask what you’re doing?”

Camila finally finds her balance and licks his cock from the base to the tip, making Luke gasp and take in a sharp breath. “Getting it now?” she asks and closes her lips around the head.

Luke puts his hand in his mouth and bites on it, because he probably doesn’t want to wake up the neighbors, but by the way his cock becomes harder and thicker she knows he likes it. Her girlfriends told her about this and that men always love it when girls go down on them, but she’s never tried it before. It seems a little bit tricky with the whole gag reflex and no teeth thing but she’s a fast learner. She breathes through her nose and tries to take as much as she can fit inside her mouth and swirls her tongue around the sides of his cock, and Luke jerks his hips forward. There’s saliva in her mouth that makes the slide easier, and Camila starts sucking for real, like there’s actually something that can come out of his cock if she sucks hard enough, and strokes the inner sides of his thighs at the same time. Luke shudders and comes, filling Camila’s mouth with bittersweet liquid. She swallows it all and looks up at Luke’s relaxed face.

He tugs her up from her knees and rearranges himself on the bench so his legs are on either side of it and pulls Camila down to sit in front of him with her back pressed to his chest. When she’s comfortable, he spreads her legs and pushes his fingers inside of her, stroking and teasing, biting on her shoulder, and pinching her nipples through the fabric of the blazer.

She already knows how it works. She relaxes and feels the heat building up at the friction, and then, when it’s almost over, she looks up at the sky and breathes in the air, cold and refreshing, new and glorious, and comes with a cry, clenching around Luke’s fingers.

*****

  _2014_

Gerard wakes up in unfamiliar apartment and takes a long look around.

He's lying on a bed, naked, and a little stinky. The floor is littered with pieces of paper, take away boxes, packs of colored chalk, and dirty clothes. He remembers his own basement and feels a little nostalgic.

The big difference is that the room is bright with the morning sun streaming through the gap between the curtains, and Gerard can even hear the birds singing outside. The window is open, and the tree branches are like sneaky spies, peeking inside and making Gerard self-conscious. He tugs the sheet to his chest and tries to look through the transparent curtain, craning his neck a little. There's some movement on the windowsill and he doesn't think it's the trees shaking in the wind. It's something else, black and small, alive.

"Hey!" Gerard calls out to the intruder, challenging him to a proper greeting.

"Mew!" There is an immediate response, and the curtain shifts, revealing black fur, a couple of curious ears and finally the rest of the body of a tiny kitten. It slips inside and sits on a chair nearby, looking at Gerard with its green eyes.

"Hello?" Gerard says. Although his first impulse is to reach his hands and stroke the soft-looking fur, the skin on his hands is already itching. Fuck the allergy.

The kitten starts licking its paws, and it looks too busy for further conversation.

Gerard shrugs. "Frank didn't tell me he has a cat."

And then, the memories of Frank take him to the previous day, so he lies back on the pillow closing his eyes and enjoying the ride.

They rambled around Paris, sharing secret looks and smiles, ate lunch in a cozy café, when Frank ate all the fries and vegetables from Gerard's burger leaving him only the meat and a bun. Gerard didn't mind though. His stomach was busy with other things, like flip-flopping and jumping to his throat and back down.

Frank showed Gerard all the places where the street artists were working and promised to take him to one of their parties, because no one should miss that one while being in Paris.

It was after midnight when they stumbled into Frank’s apartment building and to the third floor. Frank didn't ask Gerard to stay for the night, just pushed him all the way inside the bedroom, and fell on his knees in front of him while his hands were working on Gerard’s zipper.

Gerard remembers how good it felt even though Frank didn’t seem to be experienced in this, but he liked even more when it was his turn, and the noises Frank made, they were like fireworks in his head, only louder and hotter and so much more, it was a little scary.

Gerard opens his eyes and calls out for Frank, but there is no answer. After a small tour around a one-bedroom apartment and a visit to the bathroom, Gerard returns back to bed. He’s completely alone. No Frank, no coffee, and he didn’t buy any cigarettes yesterday. The kitten is gone too, and Gerard feels homesick all of a sudden. He finds his phone under his crumpled jeans and calls Mikey. The call goes straight to a voicemail which is expected. Mikey told him that they were going to be on and off line all the time because of the constant driving between the base stations.

Gerard watches the yellowed wallpaper for a while then turns his look to an old bureau that takes up almost half the space in the room. It probably belonged to Frank’s grandmother. In fact, everything in the apartment seems like it hasn’t been taken care of for a long time, and Frank’s dirty clothes and broken chalks are the only signs that someone actually lives here.

Gerard takes a deep breath. Maybe it’s time for him to leave.

There is a soft clink of the door, and then a rummaging in the hall. Gerard freezes, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Frank shows up in the doorway, holding a holder with two coffee cups in it, a Starbucks logo bright and familiar on their sides.

Gerard smiles involuntarily.

“I knew it was worth it,” Frank says and sits on the bed, handing the cup to Gerard.

“What was worth what?” Gerard asks, already burning his tongue on the hot liquid.

Frank pecks Gerard’s cheek. “Your smile is worth riding a skateboard for two kilometres, careful not to spill the coffee out, but fast enough so it’s still hot when I get here.”

Gerard chokes, and sputters a mouthful of coffee on the bed and his bare legs. Frank snatches the cup from his flailing hand and waits patiently until Gerard stops coughing.

“Are you all right?’ He asks carefully.

Gerard nods, still coughing, but reaches his hand for the cup. Frank smiles and winks at him. “Do you put drugs in your coffees or something? Why do you love it so much?”

Gerard kisses Frank on the lips and says “It’s coffee…” And the world is bright again.

But it takes Gerard only half the cup to realize that it’s not the coffee that lightened his mood. The cup is standing on a nightstand, completely forgotten because Gerard is listening to Frank talking about the neighbor or a friend. He’s not really paying attention. He is too busy falling for the guy for real.

He feels like home, Gerard thinks. And as if Frank heard him, he falls silent and watches Gerard with an intense look. Gerard is the first to break the eye contact.

“Your hair is so stupid,” he blurts out. “I hate it.”

Frank nods knowingly. "Wanna try to grab it again while I blow you?" He asks, leaning in for a kiss.

***** 

_1939_

“Are you sure he doesn’t mind my invasion?” Camila asks for the tenth time on their way to Luke’s friend’s house.

Luke kisses the back of her hand and smiles reassuringly. “Liam’s house is always full of strangers. It just became a tradition to gather there and play music every Friday and Saturday. Some people, like me, for example, can’t play any instrument, but I love music and always come there to listen. I never showed up with a girl before. Liam tried to set me up with a few, but eventually he gave up on my love life and just gives me drinks. He will be so happy to see you.”

Camila sulks. “Yeah. Sounds like a good friend to me.”

That makes Luke belly laugh. Camila doesn’t remember him laughing this light-heartedly before, so she pretends to be grumpy a little more although her heart is smiling.

“Look who’s here!” Liam meets his guests at the front door and pats Luke by the shoulder. “I didn’t expect you tonight. Where were you yesterday? I dropped by your house but nobody answered.”

Luke stretches his lips as if testing them to work properly, steps aside, and takes Camila by the hand. “Liam, meet my friend Camila. We met a few days ago, and I was showing her Bruges yesterday.”

Liam arches an eyebrow at Luke and bows in front of Camila. He takes her hand and kisses it. “It is very nice to meet you, madam.” He makes an attempt not to stare, but curiosity takes the best of him and he’s just ogling her for a minute.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t make Camila uncomfortable; maybe because she wants to impress Luke friends, or maybe it’s because of her newly-gained confidence with having Luke in her life and knowing he loves her with all his soul, or…maybe she just wants every man in this house to envy Luke because he has such a gorgeous woman by his side.

It doesn’t really matter because, Camila knows, it’s wrong, but she decides to deal with it later, when all this emotional mess calms down a little.

Liam tries to whisper something in Luke’s ear but he shakes his head threateningly and leads Camila inside the spacious room full of people of different ages and origin. Even their clothes are weird, like it’s a carnival or some kind of theatrical performance. Camila feels out of place in her plain black dress. Many people have musical instruments in their hands, and four of them are playing an interesting ethnic tune.

“Who are those people?” Camila asks quietly.

Luke rubs her hand. “Liam is a very…um…modern person,” he tries to explain. “He wants to create an international theater and show the world as it is, with its different styles, traditions, and preferences. He’s already contacted a few playwrights from all over the world to help him realize this project. Some of them are here, as you can see.”

Camila studies the people in the room carefully. No one seems to notice her; they are all immersed either in the music, or in the passionate conversations. Camila likes these people a lot. It seems like they don’t care about you until you show yourself.

“What did Liam try to tell you behind my back?”

Luke frowns. “I’m sure he wanted to meet me outside and hear all the details about you and our relationship. I’m not sure I’m ready for this kind of conversation.”

“Even with your friend?” Camila sees an unoccupied armchair not far from the improvised stage and leads Luke there.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s my friend or my enemy. I just never had something that intimate in my life so I had to decide whether to share it with the rest of the world or not. I don’t think I want to.”

Camila nudges him to sit in the armchair and leans in to whisper in his ear. “You can have me all to yourself.” Luke’s cheeks turn pink, and he doesn’t notice as Camila grabs a pillow from behind his back and puts it on the floor next to his feet. She puts her purse between Luke’s leg and the armrest and sits down on the pillow.

Luke groans and leans down. “I can stand. You can sit down comfortably.”

Camila kisses his left knee and pats his injured leg. “I am comfortable.” And she gives him a look that forestalls any other objections.

The music stops and there’s a pause when people share their opinions, talk to the musicians, and some of them go to the kitchen to get more drinks.

Liam emerges in the doorway with three glasses of beer and waltzes between his guests to Luke and Camila. “There you are,” he hands them the beers and sits on one of the armrests beside Luke. “Are you enjoying the evening, madam?”

Camila takes a sip of the beer and nods approvingly. “Yes. It’s very interesting.”

He pinches Luke’s side and winks at him. “I’m sure you’ll like what’s happening on the terrace.”

“Why’s that?” Camila narrows her eyes at him.

Liam nods at Luke. “Knowing this man, I’m sure you’re a very intelligent woman. I have a few journalists and political activists up there. They always have heated conversations about culture, meanings of life, and other philosophical questions. Today though, they’re arguing about Belgium’s neutrality in the upcoming war. Germans invaded Poland already.”

Camila bites her lip. “So it is happening.”

Liam nods. “The Wheel of Time skips forward no matter what we have to say about it.” He looks around and his eyes widen when he sees four men take their seats on stage. “But before you go anywhere, you have to listen to these people. They came from the future, or the past, I don’t know. But there’s definitely someone with a time machine out here.”

Luke laughs again, and Camila’s heart flutters. “How much have you had to drink?”

Liam waves his hand dismissively. “Just listen yourself. They’re aliens.”

Camila looks at the men with their instruments. One of them is wearing an exotic looking cloak and his hands are empty.

“What instrument is the guy with dark skin playing?” she asks Liam.

Liam pats his throat and rolls his eyes in admiration. “His voice. His voice is a thousand years old.”

Luke turns to Liam. “Explain?”

Liam cringes. “I’m not an expert, but this guy,” he looks around, searching for someone, “he’s not here…well, anyway, this guy told me this is a griot from West Africa. They keep traditions of their people and pass them from the father to the son. It sounded more exciting from the man who brought them here, but I’m sure you’ll understand the minute you hear them play. The rest of the group is from Paris and Lisbon.”

The men start playing, and the room falls silent.

_o meu coração agora não quer mais_

_mais saber de ninguém_

_eu só sei que ele já bateu demais_

_bateu demais por alguém_

_o meu coração agora não quer mais_

_mais saber de ninguém_

_eu só sei que ele já bateu demais_

_bateu demais por alguém_

_ele bate longe longe longe_

_ele bate longe longe_

Camila sees a few people nod approvingly but most of them just listen, mesmerized, when the griot starts on his part. Camila takes Luke’s hand and squeezes it. She rubs her cheek against his knee and looks around. There’s a man standing in the open door to the terrace. He’s wearing an old woolen trench coat and a blue shirt, and he’s staring directly at Camila.

She rubs her forehead, trying to remember where she might have seen that man, but nothing comes to mind. There’s an insane assumption that her father sent someone to make sure she and Jeremy are all right, but in that case…she doesn’t even want to think what she’d do in that case. This is not it. It’s just a man who can’t admire a woman’s beauty subtly, that’s all. She kisses Luke’s hand and presses closer to his leg. Luke brushes his fingers through her locks, ruining the hairdo, but she enjoys the tingling sensations on her skin. She saves up the thought in her mind to ask Luke to do it again when they’re in the safety of their home so she can purr as much as she wants.

_o meu coração agora não quer mais_

_mais saber de ninguém_

_eu só sei que ele já bateu demais_

_bateu demais por alguém_

_o meu coração agora não quer mais_

_mais saber de ninguém_

_eu só sei que ele já bateu demais_

_bateu demais por alguém_

_ele só sei que ele bate longe longe longe_

_ele só sei que ele bate longe longe_

_ele só sei que ele_

When the main part of the performance is over, and some of the guests have said their goodbyes and left for home or gone on to other places Liam and the other guests move to the terrace. Liam’s house is the last in a street that borders a park on one side and government buildings on the other, and the closest neighbors live a mile away, so there’s no one to disturb. Camila thinks this is one of the reasons he can throw such noisy parties every week.

There’s another conversation happening, and the biggest question is about immigration to the countries that aren’t involved in the war. One of the debaters tries to justify his decision to move to the US, because he wants to save his culture, his generation, his life.

Camila snorts skeptically, and it’s loud enough for the guy to hear and a few other people to turn to look at her.

“Do you have something to say to this, madam?” The man asks challenging.

Camila snorts again. “Well, if you want to listen to me…”

The man bows. “Please, be my guest.”

Camila shrugs and clears her throat. “I understand if you want to live your life in peace. But you don’t have to move across the ocean to find it. Switzerland is much closer than you think.” There’s some snickering directed at the man in question. “You want something more and I can understand it too, but please, don’t try to cover it with some noble words about culture and generations. How old are you?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “I am thirty four.”

“Great. Where were you when the Great War began?” Camila keeps questioning.

“My family was evacuated. And I mean my mother, my sisters, and myself. My father and older brothers, they all were killed.”

“Can’t you see?” Camila tries to steady her breath, but the question hurts too close to the heart. Because Luke is sitting right next to her, and her uncle and cousins were among those who died in Passchendaele. “There’s no generation left. We’re lost, our lives were scattered by the war, and those who survived are destined to die with this burden. The only thing we can do is leave a memory of us. We have to tell the younger generation about the terror of war, that there’s nothing on this planet that’s worth killing for. Nothing is worth the tears of mothers and children who’d lost their children, their fathers.” Camila takes a deep breath. “You can leave,” she says coldly, “but don’t make it about saving a generation. Make it about yourself and live the way you want. Enjoy your life and never try to recall the warmth of your father’s hands and your brother’s laughter.”

*****

_2014_

"Hey, Lulu!" Frank greets the man standing at the front door of the building and following them with a longing look. "Comment ça va?"

The man cringes and mumbles something under his breath.

"What's wrong with him?" Gerard asks.

"He's probably hungover. Waits until someone invites him over for a drink.”

"A sponger," Gerard casts a resentful glance at the guy.

Frank laughs. "We are used to him hanging around for so many years. Some people made it a monthly tradition to buy him a bottle of cheap champagne on their pay day.

Gerard shakes his head, dumbfounded. "But why? That’s so fucked up."

"That's what he wants, Gee," Frank says with a shrug and pulls him away.

*****

They take the train to get to a different district of Paris and then walk a few blocks on foot until they are standing in front of another basement door.

"I thought you were called street artists for a reason. Why do you always have to work in basements?" Gerard loves basements, but it's just not logical.

"We paint on the streets when we have a project ready. What do you think the streets would look like if each artist would draw his every idea on the walls? We need a place to think. Express our emotions too."

Gerard hums. "You're right. But you paint with chalks. It can be washed away by the rain or even the street sweeper."

Frank nods meaningfully. "Yes. That's another reason I started working with chalk."

"What's the first one?"

"You're about to find out," Frank winks and opens the door, pushing Gerard inside.

There are about a dozen young people sitting on the couches and bean bags inside. The walls are mostly chalk free, and the room looks more like a rehearsal studio than an art one. Gerard sees four electric and two acoustic guitars standing in the corner, a few amplifiers, and a drum kit.

A girl who is sitting close to the door sees them and stands up for a greeting.

"Frankie! You're here! Where’ve you been?" A strong British accent straightens her words.

"Hi, Alex," Frank hugs her and twirls in the air. "I haven't seen you here for a while either."

"Well," the girl, Alex, looks at Gerard and then turns to Frank again. "I've been busy with school. It looks like you've been busy too."

Frank chuckles. "Yeah, you could say that." And then he takes Gerard by the hand and leads him further into the room. "Hey guys, meet my friend Gerard. He's from the US. Some people say he's a rock star over there."

All the girls and boys stand up to give them either a hug or a quick peck on the cheeks and say their names to Gerard. He's so nervous, their faces are like a blur in front of his eyes, and he doesn't remember any of the names. He's flattered by the warm welcome though.

They start asking him about the music he plays, and how they met, and it almost wounds Gerard's pride to meet so many young folks who don't recognize him.

But the crowd around him is being pushed away by a man riding a whirling chair. He elbows his way to Gerard, still sitting in the chair and reaches his hand for a shake.

"Hello," he says lightly. "I'm James. I'm Frankie's best friend."

"It's nice to meet you, James," Gerard says to the empty space because James is already behind him, studying the back of his head, probably.

“It is very nice indeed,” James returns to the spot in front of Gerard and crosses his arms over his chest. “I just had to see a person who helped our Frankie wipe my Poison Ivy off the floor in the art studio.

Gerard snorts nervously, but Frank is right beside him, taking his hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “I hated that picture. It had to go anyway. You should be proud it had such a tremendous way to go.”

James sticks his tongue out at Frank.

“Are you an artist too?” Gerard asks, glancing at James from behind Frank’s back.

“We study together at the université, same professeur, same troubles. But we want to make a difference, you know,” James starts moving his hands in the air enthusiastically. “Those people, they refuse to see the truth. They don’t want to understand that ignorance is a crime too.”

“Who is he talking about?” Gerard whispers in Frank’s ear, but Frank just shakes his head dismissively.

“We know they’re scared,” James continues in a dreamy voice, “but we will fight for them, for every single person that lives in those banlieues.”

“Yeah,” Frank steps forward and slides his leg on the chair wheel, “like Batman and Robin,” and the way he puts the stress on the last syllable of each name shouldn’t sound so hot to Gerard, but it is. “Get off my chair!” Frank pushes James off the chair and flops down in it, studying Gerard curiously. “What’s the matter cowboy?” He asks, spreading his legs a little, and moves his ass in the chair teasingly. “Wanna ride?”

The heat is burning Gerard’s ears and is spreading down South, leaving Gerard no choice but to sit on Frank’s lap and let him roll the both of them to the other side of the room where Gerard can sit on the beanbag and calm down.

Frank gently pecks his lips, and rolls away to join the conversation happening between his friends. “Who are we waiting for by the way?”

“Bonga is still not here. I promised to wait for him,” Alex nods at the corner with the guitars. “Sing something for us, Frankie. I’m sure your friend would like to listen. Right, Gerard?” Alex calls out for Gerard to hear.

“I didn’t know he sang,” Gerard walks closer and raises an eyebrow at him.

Frank rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t sing.” And then he narrows his eyes threateningly at Alex. “Thank you very much.”

Alex puts her foot against the seat of Frank’s chair and pushes it away forcefully, sending Frank to the farthest corner of the room. “He does sing. And he plays instruments,” she tells Gerard. “You really have to listen. He is amazing.”

“I can hear you!” They hear Frank yell at them, but he is already picking up the acoustic guitars, so Gerard hurries to drag the bean bag closer to the circle of people and does his best not to squeak from excitement.

Frank hands the other guitar to James, and they start playing almost immediately. It’s an old song, and Gerard is sure he heard it before, but when Frank starts singing, the words reach his heart like they never did before.

_Have you seen the old man_

_In the closed-down market_

_Kicking up the paper,_

_with his worn out shoes?_

_In his eyes you see no pride_

_Hand held loosely at his side_

_Yesterday’s paper telling yesterday’s news_

_So how can you tell me you’re lonely,_

_And say for you that the sun don’t shine?_

_Let me take you by the hand and walk you through_

_the streets of London_

_I’ll show you something to make you change your mind_

Frank’s eyes seem far away, and Gerard wonders where the song takes him, but then he catches James looking at him with a knowing smile, and drops his eyes.

_Have you seen the old girl_

_Who walks the streets of London_

_Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?_

_She's no time for talking,_

_She just keeps right on walking_

_Carrying her home in two carrier bags._

_So how can you tell me you're lonely,_

_And say for you that the sun don't shine?_

_Let me take you by the hand and walk you through_

_the streets of London_

_I'll show you something to make you change your mind_

By the way Frank’s fingers move on the strings, Gerard can tell he’s a very skilled guitarist, and he wonders how many surprises this man is keeping up his sleeve for Gerard to discover.

When the song ends, people applaud softly, and the room is quiet for a minute. Then, the door to the basement opens, and a chubby guy is standing in the doorway, leaning against it with his hand and crossing his legs impatiently.

“Why are you idiots still here?” He says in a dramatic tone and flips his hand in the air.

“Bonga!” Alex puts her hands on the hips and taps her foot against the floor. “You asked us wait here.”

Bonga throws his hands in the air, palms out. “I’m here! Let’s go!”

And just like that, everybody is on their feet and moving towards the door. Frank lets James take care of the guitars and grabs Gerard by the hand. “Come on, we are leaving.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you are a musician too?” Gerard asks while trotting after Frank.

“I saw the videos of My Chemical Romance on YouTube,” Frank answers not looking at him.

“And?” Gerard prompts.

“Nothing. Just thought I’d look amateur compared to you. You guys are great.”

Gerard giggles. “I just got lucky. That’s all.”

“Yes, you did.” Frank agrees.

*****

Gerard is squeezed in the backseat of Alex’s car between Bonga, who’s taking two thirds of the space, and James, who’s small, but definitely hasn’t had a shower for a while. Frank is sitting in the front seat and glances at Gerard mischievously.

“Why are you sitting in the front?” Gerard asks, scrunching up his face in pain when Bonga rests his elbow on his thigh.

Frank flashes a toothy grin at him and winks. “Because I’m awesome.”

*****

_1939_

“Do you want to go up there?” Luke asks Camila looking at the Belfort tower.

Camila giggles. “Isn’t it too late for visitors?”

Luke fumbles in the pocket of his jacket and digs out a clanging key chain. “As one of the lead engineers I have keys to almost every public building in Bruges.” He winks at her and trudges under the arch. “Come on.”

Camila shakes her head, smiling at his childishness but runs along. The place is quiet and empty, and their whispers create a cacophony of sounds. At the beginning of a narrow stairway, they argue about who’s going to go first. Camila insists on going after him in case he loses his cane or trips over, but Luke stubbornly refuses to go ahead, saying that if he falls on Camila, they both would be hurt and if he’s behind her, she would be able to at least call for help. He also says he isn’t going to fall anyway.

Camila wonders if she will ever be able to change his point of view on something, but postpones this thought for later because the way up the stairs is too exciting to think about anything else at the moment.

Then she hears Luke’s ragged breaths. She stops and runs down to him. “Are you okay?” She asks him holding him tightly. “Maybe we should come back some other time?”

Luke breathes in and out for a few times and shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just dizzy.”

“You didn’t have that many drinks. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

Luke nods slowly. “Yes. I’m okay.” He looks up. They didn’t make it even to the first landing. “Let’s go. I’ll be fine.” He manages to flash a smile, and Camila sniffs disgruntledly.

She only takes a couple of steps up when she hears a shuffling sound against the stone wall, and her heart stutters with fear. She turns around only to see the darkness. “Luke!”

The main landing is just around the turn of the wall, but she can’t get to it fast enough. Luke’s lying unconscious on the ground, but he managed to roll up, a trick he probably learned during the war that has become an unconscious instinct of self-preservation, and his head and neck look fine to Camila as she feels them. Luke’s chest is heaving rhythmically, so Camila resumes checking on his bones. After a thorough inspection, nothing seems to be broken, but she needs Luke to confirm it. She slaps his face as gently as she can and says his name, trying to feel in his pockets for a box of matches. Too bad he doesn’t smoke. It’s too dark inside, and she’s going to have to drag Luke outside to look at his injuries, but Luke croaks and grabs her hands where they hold his face.

“Where am I?” he asks.

“In the Belfort. You lost consciousness and fell down. Does anything hurt?” Camila’s wills her voice not to shake.

Luke’s silent for a maddening minute. “Camila,” he says gently.

“Yes, it’s me. What happened to you?”

Luke kisses her hands and presses them close to his chest. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Nothing is broken. It happens to me sometimes. Maybe too much oxygen.”

“Let’s go home,” Camila nearly begs.

*****

_2014_

When Alex parks her car at the lot, they can already hear the music. Three more cars park nearby, and the rest of their group spills out of them.

They run across the road to a place that looks like an abandoned park, but it’s crowded with young people. There is an old rusty bus without windows and with flat tires in the center of the square, and music is playing somewhere inside it.

The bus, the walls of the abandoned buildings and the road are painted in the same theme. It’s about a caravan traveling down the Silk Road. The travelers see the deserts and oases, different countries and their miracles, and Gerard isn’t sure if those are just the pictures or the real people and places. It’s already dark, but the paintings are bright and colorful, thanks to the properties of fluorescent chalks. Gerard is scared at first, when he can’t tell the difference between the real stars and the painted ones, but Frank’s hand is right there, holding him tight and leading him closer to the bus, where people are already singing and dancing.

“What is happening?” Gerard asks Frank, and he has to yell to be heard over the music.

Frank snakes his arms around Gerard’s neck and starts rocking them from side to side. “This is my family. We come here every week and one of the groups of artists presents its theme. Today is Bonga’s turn. We were afraid the rain would ruin everything before we get here, but it seems like the weather is on our side today. Bonga and four other members of his group were painting all this beauty until dawn yesterday.”

“Why do you divide into groups?” Gerard puts his hands on Frank’s back and pulls him closer.

“Because each one of the groups chose its own banlieue, and we’re trying to convince the citizens to let us start art projects there. We want to show them that street art can be educational and kind, that it doesn’t always have to be dirty words and body parts, you know.”

Gerard kisses Frank’s temple. “You’re fighting a nasty battle.”

Frank nods. “I know, professeur Morrison told me the exact same thing, but I still convinced him to give it a try anyway. I’ll be thrown out of the university if I don’t succeed in this.”

“Why? Because you want to share your beliefs with others?”

Frank shakes his head. “No, it’s all my fault. I missed all the milestones in the semester, and professeur Morrison doesn’t want to allow me to take the final exam. He will let me take it if our plan works though.”

“And how is your plan going so far?”

“We try, but there’s a group of other people who does everything to stop us.”

“The guys you were arguing in the café. Who are they?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’ll show you tomorrow, okay? Let’s not think about it right now,” Frank closes his eyes and reaches up for a kiss.

“Frank!” A young boy walks up to them and waits until they pull apart to hug Frank.

“Hey, Noel,” Frank pats his back, “you’ve come.”

The boy shrugs. “I promised I would. I love Bonga’s work. I made pictures and I’m going to show them to my grandparents. I’m sure they’ll like them.”

“Be careful so they don’t lock you up in your room until you have to get married or something,” Frank nods at his phone.

“No, my grandparents understand. They know you’re my friends. Besides, I’m already twenty one. They can’t lock me up even if they wanted to.”

Frank shrugs. “Can’t be too careful. Is everything ready? Have you got the key from the gates?”

“Yes. I gave it to Bonga already. I’m so excited!”

Frank laughs. “It’s only two days left…”

When Noel walks away, Gerard raises an eyebrow at Frank questioningly.

“Noel lives in one of the suburbs. He’s our friend and the kindest person I have ever met,” Frank explains.

“What’s going to happen in two days?”

Frank makes a dismissive gesture. “We want to paint the parking lot at one of their schools. But we’re going to have to do it at night because they wouldn’t let us in otherwise.”

“Looking for trouble, aren’t you?” Gerard shakes his head disgruntledly.

Frank shrugs but doesn’t say anything, so Gerard pulls him close again and they resume dancing.

A few people stumble upon them and exchange small talk with Frank. They speak mostly French, but Gerard doesn’t mind. He’s too overwhelmed to talk right now. There are too many people, too much color, and Gerard hadn’t slept enough to take it all in.

Suddenly, the stars and the moonlight are gone, and the rain begins. Some people climb in their cars, some of them hide inside the bus, and the party continues when the cars pull closer to the bus. Some people are standing in the rain and just keep dancing.

Frank and Gerard hide under a big tree, but the wind is too strong, and they are going to have to find another shelter very soon.

The car pulls up right in front of them, and Alex waves at them to get inside. James is sitting in the front, and Frank and Gerard settle in the back.

The moment Gerard's head touches the headrest, he is out like a light. He opens his eyes from time to time to see the streetlights rushing past them and falls back to sleep.

“Hey, Frankie,” Alex calls. “Where did you get this cutie?”

Frank frowns at her. “You stay away from him. He’s mine.”

Alex chuckles. “But you don’t love anyone. Remember?”

Frank shrugs. “I can try.”

“And then what? You both suffer? You’re not born for love, baby.” Alex sighs heavily.

James shakes his head. “Leave him alone, Alex. Can’t you see? He’s crazy about the guy.”

“Yeah, as he was about Andre, Lila…”

“Stop that!” Frank interrupts her.

“I’m just worried about you, Frankie. That’s all.” Alex pulls up the curb and looks back at Frank. “You have a bulletproof heart, and I’m not sure he can break it.”

*****

_1707_

Rafael never thought he would have a chance to master a wedding ceremony, especially as strange as the one his friends are having. He was never a fan of traditions, so the fact that he has no right to provide such an event doesn’t discourage him at all.

“Where did you get such an ugly wig?” Anton asks him when the three of them are gathered in a spacious room with a fireplace in Rafael’s house.

“It’s not ugly,” Helena fixes the wig on Rafael’s head and smiles at him. “I think it’s beautiful.”

Anton raises an eyebrow. “It’s blue.”

Rafael rolls his eyes to look at it again. “I tried to bleach it with this new component the local girls are selling at the market, but it reacted with the powder that was generously dusted on the wig, when I soaked it in the water. I thought I’d never use it again.” He smiles at his friends and raises the glass of wine. “Thank you for this wonderful opportunity to wear it at least once.” Helena and Anton take their glasses and raise them too. “You know what? If what you’re going to do is really happening, I have a toast. I want to drink for your lives that you’re going to give away. This toast is for the words you will not say, for the people you will not meet and will not give them your smiles, for your loved ones you will not embrace, for the children you will not have, for the dreams you will not fulfill. Drink for all of them and let them go!”

“So be it!” Helena and Anton answered in unison.

Anton drinks his wine and doesn’t crinkle his nose. Wine and bread are the only food he can consume but usually his stomach has a hard time taking it.

“Are you all right my love?” Helena asks in a worried tone.

Anton smiles sincerely. “I haven’t felt better for a long time.” He takes her hand and they turn to Rafael who has a book of ceremonies open already. “Shall we begin?”

Rafael grins at them and starts reading the wedding entry. Neither Anton nor Helena pay any attention to the words he’s reading, being too immersed in their own thoughts, but when he gets to the oaths part, Raphael clears his throat and nods at the pieces of papers in their hands. “I think it’s time for you to read your vows.

Helena starts first.

“I had a strange life before I met you. I always knew there is someone out there for me to love and respect, and I’ve found you, Anton. May you be my love for eternity, may different lives flash in front of our eyes, and may we stay true to each other through the end of the world.”

Anton blinks slowly and gives her a secretive smile. He unfolds his own note and reads it to Helena. “Helena, my love. I trust you with my life. Please, find me. Guide me through this darkness so our souls can rest together for eternity.”

“I will,” Helena whispers. “I promise.”

*****

_1939_

They’re sitting on the bed, all the candle lights are on, and Camila examines Luke’s body. She stripped him down, and it made Luke’s cock take interest in the proceedings, but she deliberately ignores it and pokes his muscles and joints a little carelessly which doesn’t help him to calm down his arousal at all.

“My friends liked you very much,” Luke says when Camila keeps avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, I noticed,” she says and turns him around to lie on his stomach. “You look different.”

Luke cranes his neck and looks back at her. “My ass looks different?”

“No,” Camila slides her hand down the round globe of his ass and then kisses it. “Your ass is fine, but there’s just something different with your whole body. Like, it’s not you anymore.”

Luke has to turn now. “Maybe this is you having second thoughts?”

“How dare you say that?” Camila wants to slap him but she knows he also has insecurities. She sighs. “No. If I had second thoughts I would have known that. This,” she points at Luke, “is something happening to you.”

Luke shows her his scars on the chest and lifts up his right leg, the round patch of joining tissue on display. “I am the same.”

“I know,” Camila says, frustrated. She blows at a strand of hair and purses her lips. “Like, there’s you and something more at the same time. Like, it’s…” she shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the result of the stress. I thought you broke your neck or were already dead.”

Luke strokes her thigh. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Camila stands up, blows out the candles, and leaves the one on the bedside table, climbing back on the bed and lying opposite Luke, their bodies touching from toes to their faces. She throws her leg across Luke’s side and draws him even closer, feeling his hard cock against her thigh.

“I want to tell you about my family,” Luke says tracing a pattern on her collarbone. “You’re becoming my family now, and I want you to know everything about my past.”

“I would like to listen,” Camila kisses his nose and smiles.

“We were all supposed to go stay with my grandmother. Me, my parents and my sisters…But I got sick and had to stay at home, so I wasn’t with them when they invaded our country. Unfortunately, my grandmother lived not far from Dinant…”

“Oh, my lord…” Camila gasps, frowning.

Luke winces. “I tried to go there, but they wouldn’t let me, and soon I was sent to France, then to different parts of the Western Front. I don’t even remember all the places I went to before my knee was messed up.”

“How old were you when it all began?” Camila asks hoarsely.

“Almost seventeen. When I was released from the hospital, I was sent to London to study at the University because ours were either closed down or destroyed.”

“Did you find your family? I mean, did you find out what happened to them?”

Luke nods, and now Camila sees it without disguise. The pain that casts a shadow on his eyes. “My grandmother’s house was burned to ashes.”

Camila nods. “You must be missing them a lot.”

Luke takes a deep breath. “I’m almost forty two. I’ve learned to live without them, although sometimes it still hurts. But being here, in Bruges helped me heal. Now, it’s more like a phantom pain or an old injury that hurts during bad weather. I think reviving this town saved my life, gave me hope. And now I’ve found you.”

Camila buries her face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe I was so reluctant to come here. Jeremy begged me to come, but I agreed only because I wanted to get the wedding preparation over and done with. All these dress fittings, fences, flowers, swans in the lake…lord, I hated it!”

Luke strokes her hair and she purrs. “Why were you going to marry him then?”

Camila leans away and puts a hand on her chest. “I am twenty nine. Every day my mother reminded me about it. I got scared. But I didn’t lose my hope of finding that one special person. I’m so glad we met, I don’t even want to think of how many things could have gone differently that day.”

Luke’s face becomes serious. Not sad but determined. “I want you to talk to Jeremy. He’s your friend. He must be worried about you.”

Camila nods. “I will. I’ll go to him tomorrow.”

“Tell me about your life in Canada. When you were a little girl.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Everybody hated me. I asked too many questions, I went everywhere and got into trouble. One time, I got inside our neighbor’s hen house. He thought I was a fox and started shooting at me.”

Luke’s eyes widen in horror. “Why didn’t you shout something? Foxes don’t speak English.”

“I was too scared he would take me back home and complain to my father. Being shot to death was a blessing in comparison with the punishment he could arrange for me. But the worst of all was his look of disappointment.” She shivers. “I hate that look.”

Luke strokes her arm. “So how did you escape?”

“I ran. I ran so fast I still can’t believe I was capable of it. I ran to the woods and climbed one of the highest trees. Our neighbor looked into every hole in the ground, under every rock, but he didn’t look up even once.”

“So, you were born a little crazy, weren’t you?” Luke pulls her closer and starts kissing her cheeks and the corners of her mouth.

“Well, some men called it eccentric or even original,” Camila gasps for a breath because Luke is kissing her neck now. “But neither of them asked me out on a date twice.”

Luke turns her on her back and hovers above her, making circles on her chest with his tongue. “I’m asking you to stay in my life forever.”

Camila smiles closing her eyes and arching her back. “I will stay with you, my love.” Luke freezes. Camila looks at him, frowning. “Is everything all right?

Luke looks into her eyes and smiles. “I love you,” he says and resumes moving down, nibbling and licking her skin.

When his mouth reaches her pussy, he thrusts his tongue inside without any warning. Camila opens her mouth to say something smart but has to moan in surprise when two fingers join Luke’s tongue. She has no words for that because she’s too busy enjoying the new sensations and in a couple of minutes she comes with Luke’s name on her lips.

Luke’s smile is confident and even a little smug when he lies down to rest on her body, pinning her to the bed. He’s not heavy, and Camila secretly enjoys it, though she doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow at him.

Luke glances at the box on the table and then at her, questioningly. She rolls her eyes but nods with a grin.

This time, Luke is bracing his weight on both hands and one leg, moving inside Camila smoothly. They’ve found a rhythm quickly, and now they’re just enjoying each other, feeling the warmth of their bodies, all sweaty and deliciously aroused.

Luke can’t hold the stream of sounds that spill from his mouth. He gasps and moans, moving faster with each thrust. He groans when Camila spreads her legs wider and whines when he’s so close his forehead is covered in furrows of concentration. Camila loves every second of it. Luke’s loud, desperate noises affect her body, and she’s coming again, her pussy is clenching around Luke’s pulsing dick and they both moan in surprise at a sudden release. Luke pulls quickly and carefully out and wipes his groin with a cloth. Then he presses their foreheads together and takes in a deep breath.

“Your smell makes me crazy,” he says, still panting.

Camila looks at him and sees a young man with all his life in front of him with no war or injuries behind him and a lot of hopes and dreams in his pockets. She puts her hands on either side of his face and kisses him deeply and noisily, driving away all the fears and hesitations, dedicating her life to this man and taking his own life as a reward.

Before they fall asleep, Luke makes her come again, so she would sleep better as he said himself.

Camila doesn’t have the strength left to even turn on her side. She likes to sleep with her back pressed to his chest, but today she’s going to be content with only one side touching Luke’s body. She can always turn in the night.

Before dreams fog her mind, she feels Luke’s palm framing her face, and then a kiss on her temple.

“I love you Helena,” he says, and though it’s not Camila’s name, she doesn’t think he’s talking about another woman. Somehow, this name feels her own.

*****

  _2014_

Gerard stirs when someone's shaking him awake.

"Hey, Gee. We're home now. Let's get upstairs, okay?" Frank murmurs softly.

Home now, yes. "Sure," he croaks and lets Frank tug him by the hand.

"See you later, guys!" Alex winks from the open window, and James reaches over the dashboard to salute them.

"Good night, Alex! Good night, James!" Gerard waves aimlessly while Frank just blows them a kiss.

The rain has stopped, and the yard is quiet when they walk past the gates.

"Can we stand here for a while?" Gerard asks, slowing down.

"Is everything okay?" Franks asks.

Gerard nods. "It's just...I don't know. It so quiet and peaceful…"

"I know a better place where we can enjoy the night."

Frank leads him to the roof of the building and they cuddle up on a blanket under a plastic screen that saves a small part of the roof from rain.

"Looks like you come here a lot," Gerard notices, raking his hands under Frank's t-shirt. His skin is so hot, no one as tiny as Frank should have such an active metabolism. He doesn't even eat that much.

"Yeah, I do. Especially in summer before the rain starts. I don't know...I feel really alive then, and it reminds me of something...sounds stupid but I feel closer to it when I'm here."

Gerard kisses his neck. "It's not stupid. I feel the same way from time to time."

*****

"By the way," Gerard says, looking around the living room, "where's your kitten? I haven't seen it since this morning."

Frank gives him a blank look. "I don't have any pets."

Gerard sighs. “It must have slipped through the open window…”

Frank tugs him closer and pulls in a kiss. “I’m sure it’ll be back. No one can see you and not come back for more.”

Gerard nibbles on Frank’s bottom lip. “You know how to be irresistible, do you?” He takes a deep breath and groans. “Oh god, your smell…It drives me insane.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Frank lifts his head up to let Gerard leave a trail of kisses down his neck and closes his eyes.

“I think you do,” Gerard whispers against his neck. “You little tease.”

Frank’s eyes snap open. “Yes!” He squeals. “I can be a tease!” He pushes Gerard away and turns his back to Gerard. He lifts the hem of his t-shirt up and pulls it away, glancing back at Gerard with a smirk.

“Really?” Gerard raises an eyebrow.

Frank’s getting rid of his shoes, stepping on the heels and kicking them away, and tugs at his shorts without even unzipping them, and they slide off willingly, taking the briefs along on their way. He winks at Gerard and runs off to the bedroom.

Gerard shakes his head. “Well, if you’re asking so nicely....” And he follows Frank, taking off his clothes on his way.

They’re sitting on the bed, looking awkwardly at the pack of condoms Frank got out from the drawer.

“You know, they weren’t always this thin and comfortable,” Frank mumbles, turning the square foil pack in his hand.

Gerard chuckles. “Do you always think about it before you put the rubber on?”

Frank wrinkles his nose. “I don’t think so. I don’t even know when I read about it.”

“You don’t strike me as a passionate reader either. Maybe you saw historical porn?” Gerard suggests helpfully.

Frank shrugs. “They make that too?”

Gerard snorts. “Are you going to talk or fuck me?” He squirms impatiently.

“Can I do both?” Frank asks, looking hopeful. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Fuck now, talk later. I haven’t done it for a while, so I need to focus, and your talking isn’t helping.” Gerard lies down on the pillows and spreads his legs, tugging Frank closer. “Just prep me a little, okay?”

Frank comes the second his cock slides inside Gerard, and they both crack up, because there is nothing else they can do. When they finally calm down, Frank wants to suck Gerard off, but he can’t stop giggling, and his teeth scrape Gerard’s cock, which makes Gerard gasp and reach for his crotch instinctively, and Frank giggle even harder. In the end, Gerard pushes Frank away and jerks himself off while Frank just watches, licking his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Frank says kissing Gerard’s cheek.

Gerard laughs and pets Frank’s head. “I love your dorky smile,” he says sleepily and turns on his side, already snoring softly.

*****

_1939_

Jeremy hugs Camila the minute he sees her standing on the porch of Peter’s house.

“I decided to stay here, Cam. I mean, in Europe. We’re going to Glasgow,” he tells her excitedly.

Camila narrows her eyes suspiciously. “And by we you mean…”

“Me and Peter. I’ve always wanted to see the world, and Scotland seems like a good start.”

“Sure, but…” Camila tries to process everything at once. “Have you heard the news? The war is unavoidable.”

Jeremy nods. “Yes, I know. That’s why I wanted to see you before we leave. You two should come with us. It’s not safe to stay here anymore.”

Camila shakes her head. “Luke would never leave Bruges. It’s his home.”

“What about you?” Jeremy asks.

“He’s my home now. I’ll stay by his side no matter what.”

Jeremy makes a grumpy face. “Always so stubborn.”

“This is not stubbornness. This is my choice,” Camila argues, and Jeremy sticks his palms out defensively.

“I know,” he says. “I was trying to joke because the reality is too awful to accept without a shred of humor.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do in Scotland?”

Jeremy shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back. You said it’s time for us to find our own way, and I think I’m ready to take my chances.”

“When are you leaving?” The fact that she might never see Jeremy again makes her sad. Now that he decided to stay in Europe, she’s not sure they’ll manage to find each other.

Jeremy glances at his watch. “Actually, in a few hours. Do you know that Germany invaded Poland?”

Camila nods. “Yes, yesterday.”

“Well, I’m not staying any longer than I have to.” Jeremy considers something for a moment and then says. “Can you wait for a second? There’s something I need you to have.”

Camila is not in a hurry.

Jeremy returns with a paper bag and a note. He gives her the note first. “This is a few people I know in Brussels. They might help you to get a job as a journalist.”

Camila takes the note with a surprised intake of breath. “Thank you, Jeremy. This is exactly what I needed.”

Jeremy hides his eyes and hands her the paper box. “I also want you to have this. Even though we’re not engaged anymore, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do. Love you, as my friend, my sister, my family. And this gift is supposed to show you how happy I am to have you in my life.”

Camila takes the box. “I have nothing to give you in return.”

“You have,” Jeremy smiles. “Promise me you’re going to be happy. That’s all I need.”

Camila beams at him, remembering all the good things that happened to her recently. “I promise, Jeremy. I am.”

“Good,” Jeremy nods. “Where do I find you?”

Camila leaves him Luke’s address so he can write her about his whereabouts, but for now they have to say goodbye to each other.

*****

Liam’s house is quiet, and Camila has to double check the address, but the street is the same as it was a day ago, so she knocks on the door.

Luke opens it and the first thing he does is draw Camila into a hug. “Liam’s is being called up.”

“To the army?” Camila asks in disbelief.

“Yes,” Luke leads her to the kitchen where Liam and a few of his friends are sitting.

“What are you going to do?” She asks Liam instead of greeting.

“I’ll go,” there’s an immediate response. “There’s nothing else for me to do.”

Camila paces the room, unable to think clearly. When she can’t find Luke, she goes to the terrace and sees him sitting on a bench. He looks sad and stressed out.

“Hey,” Camila walks to him. “You’re not going, are you? You already did your fair share in the last war.”

Luke shrugs. “If they call me up, I’ll go.”

***** 

_2014_

“I think your neighbor hates me,” Gerard declares when they go for a tour around the banlieues.

“He doesn’t hate anyone, Gee. He’s not like that.”

“That’s just your trusting nature speaking,” Gerard looks around suspiciously. “Why did you choose the poorest suburbs for your project? This place is already destroyed with spray paint.”

“That’s why,” Frank raises a finger in the air. “It’s not spray paint that brings destruction, it’s what they draw with it. Dirty pictures, dirty words…that’s all they can put their energy in. It has to stop.”

Gerard lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you think they will ever let you?”

They stop at an advertisement stand and study the poster for an upcoming show. “I have to try, Gee. Otherwise there is no reason to live.”

Gerard nods, a little sad. “Hey, I saw these guys before,” his eyes catch the picture of four men on the poster. “They came to Bruges when me and Mikey were there.”

Frank frowns. “I thought they never performed outside Paris.”

“This man,” Gerard puts his finger at the picture of one of the men. “He’s a griot, right?”

“He is!” Another man answers for Frank, making them both jump. “And you’re Gerard Way, I suppose.” The man flashes them a toothy grin and grabs Gerard by the hand. “I’m a big fan.”

“So I noticed,” Frank scowls.

The guy is wearing an old-fashioned trench coat, and he looks gorgeous.

“Thank you,” Gerard blushes, but he has to stop the flirting right now if he doesn’t want Frank to show them the dark side of his peaceful nature and bite off the man’s ears.

***** 

_1939_

Luke gets the same telegram on a Sunday morning.

“Are they thinking about what they’re asking you to do? You need a cane to walk!”

They’re in the kitchen, and Luke has just told Camila the news. “They won’t send me to the fields. They need engineers too.”

Camila doesn’t suggest that he run. She knows he wouldn’t even allow such thoughts in his head. He would be a traitor. “I’ll go with you.”

Luke shakes his head as if clearing it of junk. “What?”

“I can be a field reporter. I can work with a camera, and I am sneaky. And it’s better than being a nurse. I hate blood, needles, open wounds, and sticking out bones.”

“You’ll see all of it in the fields,” Luke points out.

“Seeing things is different from having to deal with them. Besides, we could make love in the trenches.” She smiles nervously.

Luke clucks his tongue. “This is not romantic.”

“I know. But someone has to let our children know how bad the war is.” She stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “If you go, I'll go.”

*****

Their train to Brussels departs on a Monday morning; all their belongings are stuffed in a backpack and a small suitcase. Camila decided to hide the diamond in the garden so she wouldn't have to look for a safe place to hide it at the frontline.

She cut her beautiful hair short and borrowed a couple of Luke's pants and shirts so she could dress up as a man so Luke wouldn't worry too much about her safety.

Luke suggests opening a bottle of wine for the occasion but Camila laughs at him, because even the threat of war couldn't make her change her preferences in alcohol. So they sit on the balcony with a glass of beer each and try to imagine what their lives will be when the war is over.

When it's time to go to bed, Camila realizes she hates the dramatic mood they've been in all day.

"This is stupid," she tells Luke, getting on the bed and crawling along Luke's body.

Luke giggles. "I know." He pulls her closer to sit astride his hips and strokes her sides. "This is so much better than the life I've been living for the past few years. I'm not afraid of dying, and I'm looking forward to living with you in my life."

"Me too," Camila leans down and pecks his lips. "What do you want?"

Luke's face turns a slight shade of pink that's barely noticeable in the candlelight. "Could you, uh, turn around?" He wriggles his brows suggestively.

"Someone's in a playful mood today," she smirks and moves to do as he asked.

Luke blushes deeper, chewing on his lips. "It’s just...I don’t think we will get a chance to experiment in the trenches."

Camila huffs. "I’m not complaining. You should take it as a compliment. If I knew that sex could be so much fun, I wouldn’t have waited twenty nine years."

Luke ducks his head. "It’s not always fun. Depends on another person too. And your feelings."

Camila clucks her tongue thoughtfully. She is about to start a rant about the technical aspect and that you can concentrate only on yourself and your own pleasure but she sees Luke’s sad face. “Hey, I’m glad I got a chance to learn it with you. So, I guess, you’re right. It depends on the other person. I am happy to share those precious moments with you because I love you." She kisses him because there's nothing else she can say.

*****

  _2014_

Gerard thought that at this point in his life he knows how his body works pretty well, but he has to admit he never thought it was capable of experiencing a pleasure that intense. He should have come a few minutes ago, but can't stop wondering how much more he is able to embrace.

Frank, standing behind him and thrusting inside him with all his enthusiasm, seems to be having his own battle with a threatening orgasm, and considering his loud curses and ragged breath he is losing it.

Gerard's face is pressed to the wall on one side, and he is sure his cheekbone is going to bruise. Then suddenly something starts happening, and he can't tell if it is him or the world around him. His head starts spinning but not in a sick kind of way, just enough to make him push off the wall which becomes soft under his hands. Something is definitely trying to take him somewhere, to make him lose grasp of reality, and there isn't much he could do to fight it. He isn't even sure he wants to fight.

Gerard pushes off the wall even further, until he feels Frank's wet chest against his back, and practically sits on the other man's lap, groaning when Frank's cock sinks deeper. Frank links his arms around Gerard's waist and holds him steady while lifting his hips up and down bringing limp Gerard with him.

It is a matter of seconds, and Gerard takes a deep breath, feeling Frank kiss the back of his neck and mumble something incoherent against his shoulders.

"Gee," he licks the skin under Gerard's ear. "So ...mazin'... Ah!...aaaah...." Frank cries out when he feels Gerard clenching around his cock. He rocks them a couple of times more until they’re spent and then gently pulls out, letting Gerard fall with his head down on the mattress.

Frank pads to the bathroom to clean up a little and grab a wet cloth while Gerard waits with his legs trembling and skin prickling with excitement.

When he comes back, he turns Gerard around and makes a half-assed attempt to wipe his belly and thighs.

“It was stupid of me to expect a buddy conversation after, wasn’t it?” Frank chuckles. He shakes his head and drops the cloth on the floor. Then he spoons Gerard from behind and drapes a rusty sheet around them.

“Tu me rends si heureux,” he mumbles to the skin between Gerard’s shoulder blades.

Gerard doesn't hear him though. He hears nothing but his own heart bursting in his chest as memories take him in a whirlwind of collapsed times and lives. He is drowning in a cold mass of something he is ready to call himself but at the same time it is hard to tell who he is at the minute.

 *****

  _1707_

Anton is standing on the terrace and breathing in the air. Helena is right beside him, holding him by the hand.

“You know what I’m going to miss the most?” Anton asks.

“What?”

“It’s the Summertime. The way the air smells just before the rain starts. I don’t know why I love it so much. Maybe because it smells like freedom I’ve never had.”

Helena sighs and leans on his shoulder. “Maybe this is our chance.”

Anton looks at his lover and smiles gently. “I don’t regret anything. I am happy. My life is complete. It’s good that there’s something I’m going to miss. Means there’s something worth finding again.”

Helena kisses his hand and catches him when he staggers. “How do you feel?”

Anton shakes his head but it makes him feel dizzier. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Of course,” Helena leads him inside the room and lays him down on the bed. She lies next to him and presses close to his side gently stroking his cheeks.

“Promise me,” Anton whispers.

“We will meet again. I promise.” Helena puts her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

*****

  _1939_

Camila can't get rid of the weird feeling that made its place somewhere deep in her guts this morning. They're sitting in the train and everything looks fine, but she'd been in enough trouble before to know when it is just around the corner. She doesn’t tell Luke though; he's already tried to convince her to go to Scotland with Jeremy. At least until the war is over and then, maybe if he’s still alive...

She shakes the thought away. She doesn’t believe in then. Only now is important. Then can never happen.

The train pulls off and accelerates down the hill. Camila tries to breathe through her panic attack, but it's impossible to hide it from Luke anymore. He sees her pale face and grasps the headrest so tight, his knuckles turn white.

"I should have gone alone. It's all my fault," he mutters hopelessly.

"No," Camila loses her breath because the train jumps on its tracks and there are sounds of cracking metal. The cart derails and tumbles to one side.

Camila falls into Luke's hands and holds him tight, her eyes squeezed shut.

Luke wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her hair. “Forgive me, my love," he whispers, while the train is crumpled in a terrible wreck.

In the sky, there’s an odd-looking bird that’s circling above the train, its lizard-like skin is glistening in the flames of fire that capture the train. The bird looks to the East, and sees a group of other creatures. They always appear when War comes, attracted by the fear and despair. The bird shrieks in disgust and flies away.

******

_After the guns are silent_

_And after my wounds have healed_

_And after all these crosses_

_Have been planted in all these fields_

_And after that long boat ride_

_All the way across the sea_

_And after this train carries me_

_I will love you after the war_

_Love you for always and forever more_

_I will love you after the war_

_For always forever and more_

_After my boots dry_

_And my tobacco's all but gone_

_And after these postcards I been carrying_

_Under my arm_

_And after I remember_

_All the words I couldn't say_

_And after this long night fades away_

_And after this blackbird_

_Lifts up from off my chest_

_And after my soul takes its rest_

_My love, forgive me_

_I never planned to die_

_And love, put two pennies on my eyes_

**A.N.:** World War I began in 1914. World War II began in 1939.

 

* * *

Songs mentioned in this chapter

Placebo - Purify

INXS - Don't Change

Roxette - How Do You Do!

The Cars - Sad Song

Placebo - Too Many Friends

Ralph McTell – Streets Of London

Riviere Noire - Bate Longe

Paul Gross and David Keeley - After the War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be a sequel to this work, telling us about the end of Gerard's vacation in Paris.

**Author's Note:**

>  ****  
> Information about characters  
>   
> 
>  _1707, time of the year is undefined_  
>  Anton and Helena, Helena’s father Philippe Raulin (offsreen), his assistant Christian, Anton’s friend Rafael
> 
>  _1939, begins on August 27_  
>  Luke (age 41), Camila (age 29), Camila’s fiancé Jeremy, Jeremy’s friend Peter, Luke’s friend Liam
> 
>  _2014_  
>  Gerard Way (age 31), Mikey Way (age 28), MCR (without Frank), Frank Iero (age 27), Frank’s friends and enemies, James Dewees, Professor Morrison, head of one of the Paris banlieues (suburbs)  
> 


End file.
